


Vulnera Sanentur

by dreaminginfiction



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Horcrux Hunting, M/M, Masturbation, Panic Attacks, Sexual Situations, Sixth year AU, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-24 11:41:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 48
Words: 152,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14954012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaminginfiction/pseuds/dreaminginfiction
Summary: Vulnera Sanentur: The counter curse to Sectumsempra.What if on that fateful day in the bathroom, Harry hesitates before casting the curse?Maybe Draco Malfoy isn't the person Harry had always thought he was and maybe Harry sometimes hates being Harry Potter and all the crap that comes with it.This is a story of Harry and Draco learning to understand each other and change their stories.





	1. Chapter 1

> _A few days before the match against Ravenclaw, Harry found himself walking down to dinner alone from the common room, Ron having rushed off into a nearby bathroom to throw up yet again, and Hermione having dashed off to see Professor Vector about a mistake she thought she might have made in her last Arithmancy essay. More out of habit than anything, Harry made his usual detour along the seventh-floor corridor, checking the Marauder's Map as he went. For a moment he could not find Malfoy anywhere and assumed he must indeed be inside the Room of Requirement again, but then he saw Malfoy's tiny, labeled dot standing in a boys’ bathroom on the floor below, accompanied, not by Crabbe or Goyle, but by Moaning Myrtle._
> 
>  
> 
> _Harry only stopped staring at this unlikely coupling when he walked right into a suit of armor. The loud crash brought him out of his reverie; hurrying from the scene lest Filch turn up, he dashed down the marble staircase and along the passageway below. Outside the bathroom, he pressed his ear against the door. He could not hear anything. He very quietly pushed the door open. Draco Malfoy was standing with his back to the door, his hands clutching either side of the sink, his white-blond head bowed._  
>    
>    
>  _"Don't," crooned Moaning Myrtle's voice from one of the cubicles. "Don't. . . tell me what's wrong ... I can help you. . . ."_  
>    
>    
>  _"No one can help me," said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. "I can’t do it. ... I can't. ... It won't work . . . and unless 1 do it soon ... he says he’ll kill me. ..."_  
>    
>    
>  _And Harry realized, with a shock so huge it seemed to root him to the spot, that Malfoy was crying -- actually crying -- tears streaming down his pale face into the grimy basin. Malfoy gasped and gulped and then, with a great shudder, looked up into flu-cracked mirror and saw Harry staring at him over his shoulder. Malfoy wheeled around, drawing his wand. Instinctively, Harry pulled out his own. Malfoy's hex missed Harry by inches, shattering the lamp on the wall beside him; Harry threw himself sideways, thought Levicorpus! and flicked his wand, but Malfoy blocked the jinx and raised his wand for another --_  
>    
>    
>  _"No! No! Stop it!" squealed Moaning Myrtle, her voice echoing loudly around the tiled room. "Stop! STOP!"_  
>    
>    
>  _There was a loud bang and the bin behind Harry exploded; Harry attempted a Leg-Locker Curse that backfired off the wall be-hind Malfoy’s ear and smashed the cistern beneath Moaning Myrtle, who screamed loudly; water poured everywhere and Harry slipped as Malfoy,_ his face contorted and Harry hesitated, watching as Malfoy cried, “Crucio!”

 

As the curse flew towards him Harry braced himself, his hesitation not affording him enough time to jump out of the way.

The curse struck Harry and a minor sting struck his shoulder.

He blinked.

Having expected the blinding pain of the torture curse Harry almost didn’t know what to make of the barely noticeable strike. He wondered if maybe Malfoy had missed. Malfoy on the other hand, wasted no time with confusion. The anger that had seconds ago dominated his pale features was replaced by a look of horror.

 

“Potter! Oh Merlin Potter I’m so sorry,” he cried rushing forward. “I swear I didn’t mean it.”

 

A fresh wave of tears erupted from the boy’s face, but his apology startled Harry more than anything else. He couldn’t recall another instance in his life that he had heard the words ‘I’m sorry’ leave Draco Malfoy’s mouth. Malfoy himself had taken to repeating his mantras “I didn’t mean to” and “I’m sorry”, more to himself than Harry. He had fallen to his knees and buried his face in his hands shaking once again.

 

Harry was completely taken aback.

 

He watched for a moment as the normally proud and snobbish Draco Malfoy fell apart in front of him, with Moaning Myrtle watching on from the sidelines.

 

“Listen Malfoy… Its okay, I suppose.” He said, in a valiant attempt to stop the tears flowing from his nemesis’ face.

 

“Its not fucking okay Potter! I cannot believe I used that curse! That awful bloody curse- I didn’t mean to!” He sobbed.

 

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned. I believe you, you didn’t mean it.” Harry lied. He wasn’t entirely sure how someone could accidentally use a curse like the Cruciatus but he worried that pointing that out might make Malfoy’s tears even more violent.

 

As the words left his mouth though he thought back to the Ministry of Magic the year before, the night that Sirius died in their disastrous attempt at a rescue mission. He though back to his own desperate attempt at revenge on Bellatrix Lestrange and her cackled laugh taunting him “you have to mean it Potter” she had hissed as she threw the curse at him. He remembered the searing, unimaginable pain, the way his muscles ached for days afterwards- Malfoy’s curse had done nothing of the sort. Already he felt fine, he knew the raw hatred the Cruciatus curse demanded wasn’t there. Perhaps Malfoy really hadn’t meant it… or he realised his mistake.

 

“Is that what you’re so upset about?” Harry asked, growing angry. “That you tried to curse me but you didn’t mean it enough so it didn’t work?”

 

“What are you on about Potter?” Malfoy asked, his red rimmed eyes looking up at him for the first time. 

 

“The curse doesn’t work properly if you don’t mean it. Is that what you’re upset about?”

 

“NO!” Malfoy shouted, climbing back onto his feet. “You idiot. I’m fucking upset because I went to use that bloody curse even though I knew what it could do. I didn’t even think about it! If I’d have thought for even a second I swear I wouldn’t have cast it, I didn’t want to… I’m turning into the kind of person who does that without even thinking about it. Is that better reasoning for you Saint Potter?”

 

“Well I mean…I’ll be honest I do feel a bit better about that reasoning, you know, just because I appreciate not being tortured.”

 

At Harry’s stumbled response Draco let out a wholly undignified snort. It seemed this was a day full of new sounds and sights of Draco Malfoy, first tears, then apologies and now snorting, Harry hoped this would be the end of what he would learn about the blond that day. He wasn’t sure he needed to know any more of his other ‘undignified sounds’.

 

“Listen… Malfoy” Harry began awkwardly “If you don’t want to turn into that kind of person, why don’t you just swap sides?”

 

“Just swap sides.” Malfoy echoed. “If only it were that easy.”

 

“It could be! I’m sure Dumbledore would help you if you wanted to leave…. If you want to leave… I don’t actually know what you want, but I figure being surrounded by Death Eaters all the time might not be what you want… given your whole freak out I thought I’d just put the offer out there. I’m not a fan of yours Malfoy but you seem like kind of a wreck.”

 

“Oh don’t pity me for Circe’s sake.”

 

“Trust me, I don’t pity you. I don’t even like you. I just thought I’d put the suggestion out there.” Harry snapped.

 

“What? Just in case the thought of not being involved with the Dark Lord just hadn’t ever occurred to me?” Draco retorted, glaring down at the shorter boy.

 

“Don’t be shitty with me Malfoy, I was just being nice.”

 

“Can’t resist playing the hero can you Saint Potter? Have to rescue all the baddies and save all the Death Eaters do you?” He spat. Malfoy had always had that ability, to make Harry feel small and ridiculous for doing the right thing. It was probably his worst quality, though of course, competition was stiff. 

 

“Fine. Whatever. I’m leaving.”

 

“Fuck off then!”

 

Harry turned to leave what had to be in the top five strangest encounters he had ever had in a bathroom. The top one strangest encounter he had ever had in a boys bathroom.

 

Ready to go back to the common room leave Draco bloody Malfoy to his own shit. He had made it only a few paces before the blond stopped him.

 

“Wait!” He shouted, grabbing Harry’s arm to prevent him leaving.

 

“What happened to me fucking off?”

 

“Well you should still do that. Definitely. But… Look Potter I don’t like you.”

 

“Cheers Malfoy. I’m not a fan of yours either.”

 

“No I mean I really genuinely hate you. You’re the worst person I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting, you’re horribly shabby looking, you spend all your time surrounded by such hopeless cases as Granger, the Weasel, and even Longbottom, you’re somehow every teacher’s pet despite the fact that you truly are a complete dunderhead and I hate that stupid scar and your stupid glasses and overall you are just generally completely unpleasant and I hate you. You know that right?”

 

“None of those things at all are news to me. Like I said though, I don’t like you either. You’re such a dick Malfoy, honestly, I don’t even know how you do it, do you genuinely have to put extra effort in every day to make yourself more obnoxious and awful than necessary?”

 

“So you can appreciate that what I’m going to say next will be challenging for me.”

 

“I might be able to… It depends on what you say….” Harry crossed his fingers that this encounter wouldn’t get any more bizzare and make a move towards his number one strangest bathroom encounter… he didn’t think he could handle this exchange becoming any weirder.

 

“Can you not tell anyone about this?”

 

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t had any intention to tell anyone about his odd morning spent in the bathroom with Draco Malfoy, but the request rubbed him the wrong way. “You mean the way you would keep it to yourself if the situation was reversed?”

 

Draco flinched, knowing of course that Harry was right. Of course he would tell everyone if the situation was reversed, but the situation was not reversed and Draco needed for his indiscretion to not get out, more than he needed his pride.

 

“Please Potter, I would be in your debt.” He asks, shamefully allowing his voice to sound pleading.

 

Harry was undoubtedly interested in what being in Malfoy’s debt might mean, what he might be able to ask for in return for his silence, but more than anything it was his use of the word ‘please’ that caused him to begin nodding. “Yeah, okay. I won’t mention it to anyone.”

 

“Thank you.” Draco nodded, his shoulders releasing some built up tension. He regarded Harry for a moment longer, as if waiting for a change of heart before turning on his heel and marching out of the room.

 

***

 

Harry returned to his dormitory that evening feeling like he had been hit with a particularly strong Confundus charm.

He really needed to stop having strange encounters in bathrooms, soon enough he would reach his limit on oddities he was able to process.

But somehow his interaction with Malfoy kept replaying in his mind. He was surprised, sure. Underneath that though, he felt a bizarre sense of relief that he couldn’t quite explain. He didn’t like Malfoy and had always (quite vocally) thought him to be a complete wanker, but the hint that he might not be quite as bad as he acted filled Harry with a sense of hope. After some deliberation he decided (quite firmly) that he was relieved simply because if Slytherin’s Prince Pureblood could be even a hair’s breath less fanatical than once expected, then maybe there were others who felt the same. Yeah, Harry reasoned, in the last few months it had been seeming as though every second person was being swayed by the crap the ministry was starting to publish, or the Death Eater philosophy. Maybe students who were already more moderate than Malfoy might not be as convinced as Harry had assumed. It was a lovely thought. Any wonder he felt relieved.

 

It had nothing to do with Malfoy personally.

That would be ridiculous.

 

Arriving in the common room later than expected Harry prepared himself for the barrage of questioning that would meet him, in the form of Ron and Hermione. Harry already tensed, not being very good at lying to his best friends and hoping they wouldn’t press him too much.

 

“Harry! There you are!” Hermione called spotting him as soon as he stepped out of the portrait hole.

 

“Why on earth are you all wet?” She asked taking in his drenched school uniform. Somehow during the madness he had forgotten that the burst pipelines had in fact given him an impromptu shower and he had therefore neglected his drying charm. He cast it quickly.

 

“Oh, yeah… I ugh. I got into a bit of a duel with Malfoy in the bathroom.” Harry told her, cringing. He had hoped that by sticking as close to the truth as possible he would find it easier to keep a straight story. He hadn’t thought about how many more questions the story opened up.

 

“You followed him into a bathroom?” She asked, eyebrows raised.

 

“Yeah… I thought he might be up to - wait hang on! How do you know I followed him. Maybe he followed me and I was accosted in the loos!”

 

Ron laughed from across the common room “Come off it mate, of course you followed him, isn’t following him how you spend most of your time?”

 

“He’s up to something!” Harry shouted with conviction. He was right after all.

 

Hermione and Ron both rolled their eyes, “of course he is Harry.” Hermione sighed, patting him on his shoulder.

 

She made her way back across the room and sat back down with Ron on the seats closest to the lounge. Harry shrugged to himself and followed, apparently Harry following Malfoy and having a skirmish in a bathroom wasn’t at all interesting enough to provoke questions from his friends. Harry smirked to himself, happy to have dodged a second bullet for the day and settled in to a nice night with his friends, pretending, at least for a moment that the earlier events of the day hadn’t happened.

 

***

 

Draco Malfoy on the other hand, returned to his common room in a state of near panic. He flew down the endless flights of stairs to the dungeons, all but shouted the password at the portrait and made a bee line to his own dormitory.

 

As soon as the familiar green room came into view Draco threw himself onto his bed and drew his curtains closed. Lying on his bed he panted, fear making his blood run cold as he began to struggle for breath. He raked his hands through his hair, his whole body trembling as he struggled to breathe properly. Tears pooled behind his closed eyes and he rocked himself back and forth, trying to ease his mounting sense of dread and overwhelm.

 

He didn’t know how much time had passed, he never did.

 

Panic attacks had been coming consistently throughout his sixth year, ever since that damn mark had been branded into his arm. He thought of the Dark Lord, his father’s pleas that he not let down the family, his mother’s tears, Potter’s horrified expression, the day he found out that he had nearly killed Katie Bell, the day he found out he had nearly killed Weasley (he didn’t even like Weasley and admittedly he didn’t have any feelings about Bell one way or the other, but he was still taunted and traumatised by the thought of what he might have been responsible for).

 

He knew he would eventually be responsible for worse. His stomach lurched violently at the thought. Fortunately he could take a small amount of comfort in the fact that he wouldn’t be sick this time, it had been too long since he had eaten anything substantial enough to throw up in the event he did get sick again.

 

His failures, his responsibilities, his future and the fact that he was apparently becoming more and more the kind of person he had never wanted to become swirled through his mind, not long enough for him to concentrate on any in particular. The picture overall was bleak. As bleak as Draco’s very existence since the Dark Lord had returned. And through it all he saw, clear as it was only minutes (hours? Days? Who knew how much time had passed?) ago, Potter’s bright green eyes alight with horror as the attempted Unforgivable hurtled towards him.

 

He remembered the terrible pain of the Curse. His Auntie Bella had been of the mindset that nothing taught a person how to perform the curses better than experiencing them first hand (fortunately she didn’t hold the same beleif when it came to the killing curse…. Or unfortunately, depending on what kind of mood Draco was in).

 

All her ‘practical demonstrations’ had done was open Draco’s eyes. He had been terrified, both at the thought of having to endure such a curse, and at the thought of having to administer it to another person. Lucius Malfoy of course, the dutiful father in his own way, had been furious when he had learned of Bellatrix’s ‘lessons’ with Draco, but the damage had been done.

 

Draco wasn’t like his Aunt, neither were anyone in his immediate family. Unfortunately his fanatical, obsessive and disgustingly besotted Aunt had rather set the bar in terms of expected Death Eater behaviour over the years. Neither Draco nor his parents had ever liked the idea of resorting to violence, or even supporting the reasons behind the violence, truth be told. But what was done was done, and it seemed Draco had to pay the cost.

 

The thought of turning out like his Aunt however, triggered a fresh wave of tears. He couldn’t allow himself to become the kind of person who threw unforgivable curses at people. He just couldn’t. He wouldn’t!… He knew what would happen if he didn’t use them, at least to the fulfilment of his mission though. 

 

Even still, he allowed the sweet fantasy of not turning into a monster lull him to sleep.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The following morning, as Harry entered the Great Hall, his eyes immediately sought out Draco Malfoy. This was, to Harry’s slight embarrassment, not an altogether out of the ordinary thing for him to do. In fact, his eyes, having been well practiced in finding his foe in the crowded hall, snapped towards him nearly instantly. Harry regarded the other boy closely, trying to allow the events of the previous day to colour his interpretation of Malfoy. Had he been missing anything? Misreading anything?

 

In the last year he had certainly grown thinner, his pale skin looked more transparent and waxy than its previous porcelain, his hair lay limp and flat against his head, as though he could no longer bring himself to forcefully gel it into submission. Even his eyes, which had never been particularly expressive were flatter than before, they betrayed an obvious exhaustion but kept his emotions locked firmly away from curious onlookers (such as Harry). Yes, Harry decided, Malfoy was physically showing signs of wear, of exhaustion and maybe of regret. What was perhaps most striking however, wasn’t his physical transformation, it was his body language.

 

Malfoy had always enjoyed the spotlight, that much had always been clear. He had loudly told stories, jokes and generally entertained his devoted followers for as long as they were willing to listen. The more engrossed people were in the spectacle that had been Draco Malfoy the happier he had seemed to be. That wasn’t the case anymore, Harry realised.

 

Malfoy sat removed from his usual gang. Though Pansy Parkinson kept shooting him concerned looks, it seemed as though Malfoy didn’t notice. His eyes remained trained on the table in front of him. He had no food in front of him but sipped occasionally on a cup of tea. His shoulders slouched around him (something Harry was certain had never happened before) and he seemed to be trying to make himself appear as small as possible.

 

Though his behaviour ought to have thrilled Harry, who had so far spent an irresponsible amount of time daydreaming about bringing his foe to justice, the total weight of the changes to the boy were strangely disturbing to him. Somehow Harry found himself oddly nostalgic for the swotty git who had walked with a swagger none of the other students could replicate (and yes, many had tried, often to quite embarrassing results). He had noticed some of the changes before, of course, but Harry had always attributed the changes in Draco Malfoy to his father’s imprisonment. He had assumed that Malfoy had been humbled by his father being carted off to Azkaban, and he had even taken a level of pleasure in the thought that his rival was finally getting his comeuppance. On this morning however, the change drew an invigorated sense of curiosity from Harry.

 

Throughout the rest of the day Harry watched. He noticed the way that Malfoy never seemed to stop holding himself as though the was trying to force his body to disappear. He noticed Malfoy refusing to hold his hand up in class to provide an answer (even though Malfoy had, in years previously, nearly rivalled Hermione in his determination to prove his own intelligence). When he and Malfoy didn’t share a class, Harry watched him on the Marauder’s Map, and noticed that Malfoy would wait in abandoned hallways near hi s next class instead of waiting directly outside with his other classmates. He noticed the fact that Malfoy insisted on sitting alone in every class, not just those he shared with Harry. He watched as Parkinson’s dot proceeded over to Malfoy’s only to turn back after only a few seconds. Harry imagined her attempt at conversation being rebuffed.

 

By dinner time Harry found himself pretending to have to go back for a forgotten item so that he could come back on the other side of the Gryffindor table and be able to watch Malfoy again. It wasn’t until Ginny’s arrival that Harry was snapped out of his Malfoy induced haze.

 

“Hi Harry” Ginny chirped brightly, taking the seat next to him. “How has your day been?”

 

“Oh yeah… petty good” he stammered, turning his attention away from Malfoy.

 

Across from him Ron snorted. “Pretty good?” He asked “you’ve barely said anything all day, too busy obsessing over Malfoy again.”

 

Ginny laughed, “again Harry. Come on, give it up you can’t honestly think he’s up to something still? He’s barely gotten into any trouble lately, doesn’t start as many fights or anything. I mean, he’s still a dick, but maybe he’s a dick with less direction in life since daddy got locked up.”

 

She reached up and patted Harry’s shoulder affectionately, as if to put his worries to rest. Harry, who had been gazing at Malfoy while Ginny had been talking only noticed the gesture once her hand dropped back into her lap.

 

“I’m not obsessing over him!” He told them, offended by the suggestion. He was not obsessed by Malfoy, he was just determined. Either to bring him to justice and prove himself right or to do something else… in the wake of the previous day he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted regarding the other boy but he was definitely determined. Not obsessed.

 

Ron and Ginny just laughed at him and gave him disbelieving looks. Harry wanted to tell them all about their encounter in the bathroom, then they would see. Harry wasn’t obsessed with Malfoy, he was just curious. As he would be if any other student was potentially questioning their potential Death Eater-ness. Obviously.

 

Hermione arrived and sat herself next to Ron, in the seat facing Harry, where Harry would have ended up if he hadn’t strategically repositioned himself. “Hey Hermione, you can settle a disagreement can’t you?” Ginny asked.

 

“A disagreement about what?”

 

“Harry reckons he isn’t obsessed with Malfoy.”

 

“Oh no Harry you definitely are. It’s probably quite unhealthy too.” Hermione told him.

 

Both Ron and Ginny smirked at him in triumph, as though Hermione’s agreement settled the matter. Which it didn’t. Even though it had done in every other instance before.

 

***

 

It didn’t take long for Harry’s ‘observation’ of Draco to turn into something that even he admitted resembled what Ron and Ginny had accused him of. It was not an obsession. But yeah, even Harry knew it was definitely starting to look like one. The more he watched Malfoy, the more his curiosity burned, the more progress he made on fitting pieces into the Malfoy puzzle, the more determined he became to see him in his entirety.

 

It was a terrible situation for Harry to be in. Every night he watched Draco’s dot on the map, and every night he fell asleep doing so. Eventually he would startle himself awake and find Malfoy missing, only to find him retuned by morning.

 

Harry was starting to look just as worn out and lifeless as Malfoy.

 

Eventually Harry was struck by inspiration. If there was one person in the entire castle who just might know what was going on it would be his ever reliable Albus Dumbledore. Harry raced through to his office after dinner one evening. He felt more alive than he had felt in days, the promise of answers burned brightly through him, putting a spring back into his step.

 

He confidently gave the password to the gargoyle and rode the staircase up to the headmaster’s ecclectic office, knocking enthusiastically.

 

“Enter” came his mentor’s voice from the other side of the heavy door.

 

The headmaster’s eyebrows widened in surprise when he saw Harry step in “Harry my boy! I must apologise I believe I may have forgotten that we had a meeting scheduled”.

 

“Oh no Professor, we don’t, I actually just wanted to talk to you.” Harry explained, hoping to put the old man at ease.

 

It didn’t work.

 

Dumbledore straightened himself in his seat and leaned forward, anxious to hear his pupil’s concerns. His mind racing through possibilities of horrors Harry may have witnessed through his connection to Voldemort, revelations about Horcruxes or Tom Riddle, any number of possible calamities that Harry and his friends may have been involved in. Overall Harry Potter arriving with unsolicited news rarely went well for the recipient of the news.

 

“Yes,” he said, ready to face whatever tradjedy may have befallen his favourite (not that he had a favourite) student. “Do go on.”

 

“I think Draco Malfoy is up to something.” Harry declared, with all the confidence and conviction he could gather (which is to say, the same level of confidence and conviction with which he had always made the same declaration in previous years).

 

Dumbledore visibly relaxed, slumping back down into his chair. Harry was here to discuss young Mr Malfoy. All was still well with the world.

 

“Yes Mr. Potter, I do believe you have shared your concerns of this nature with me previously.”

 

“No! I mean, yes I know I have. But I mean in a different way this time!”

 

“You believe Mr. Malfoy is involved in a nefarious plot? And as I have assured you previously I am aware of the situation and I have eyes on Mr Malfoy.”

 

“Yes yes I know, but you also don’t believe me about the Death Eater thing. But I have evidence! I know he’s up to something!”

 

“Oh? What evidence would you like to share with me Harry?”

 

Suddenly Harry’s promise echoed through his mind. He swore to Malfoy he wouldn’t tell anyone what happened. He couldn’t break that promise, not without a good reason. Yeah, exposing a potential Death Eater could be a good reason, but it wasn’t like Harry had actually seen a mark… He only really had proof that Draco Malfoy was the kind of person who would attempt and Unforgivable, and to be honest he had always sort of expected that. (Or at the very least he wouldn’t have been surprised by the information).

 

“Well… I don’t have evidence of him being a Death Eater exactly…” Harry began, his previous confidence dwindling.

 

A small smile spread across Dumbledore’s face “Harry I think I know what’s going on here.”

 

“You do?” Harry asked hopefully, he could really use someone else shedding some light on the situation, because from where he was standing he wans’t even sure that he entirely knew ‘what was going on here’.

 

“I know that we have all put a lot of pressure on you, and this year must be terribly stressful for you. There is a burden on your shoulders that I would have never wanted you to have to carry my dear boy. For that I sincerely apologise. And I can understand that by focusing your energies on Mr Malfoy you are able to escape some of the expectations you are weighed down by in your day to day life. While I’m sure it is more comforting to worry about the affairs of Draco Malfoy I hope you do not allow this… curiosity to become a distraction. You have so much on your plate, and as nice as a break from all of that may be welcome, you cannot allow yourself to become overwhelmed when you return to your duties.”

 

“What?” Harry asked, completely blindsided. “You think I’m using Malfoy as… my own personal holiday?”

 

“Are you not?” Dumbledore asked gently, as though Harry were moments away from bursting into tears.

 

“No! But come on Professor, surely you’’ve noticed. He’s all wrong! He’s all tired and sad all the time, he’s barely talking to his friends, he’s being less of a pompous twat everywhere and I mean even his stupid hair used to be all shiny and soft but now looks like its depressed! It’s not right, something’s wrong with him!” Harry shouted, finding himself standing before the headmaster.

 

“You believe that his… outward display of depression, which you think is evidenced by his being less obnoxious is a sign of his Death Eater involvement?” Dumbledore asked, very slowly.

 

“Yes! He’s not right… he needs help…”

 

“Ah” Dumbledore said nodding once and leaning back in his seat. “I hadn’t expected this, I will commend you Harry, you continue to surprise me.”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“Harry when I was a bit older than you I knew a boy who was very similar to young Malfoy. He was raised in a similar environment, very elitist, traditional pureblood upbringing and I confess when we first met I found him most unpleasant. I was horrified by his brash attitude, his arrogance and his… what I believe you so eloquently described as ‘pompous twat’ behaviour. It was all a most unappealing package at first meeting.” Dumbledore began, Harry nodded along, interested in where Dumbledore’s story would go.

 

“Not long later, in fact much more shortly after than in your situation, I started to interpret these characteristics in less unfavourable ways. I started to see the very qualities that had once been so unattractive as a personality quirk, simply a part of how he was. I thought he wouldn’t be the person I had come to know without them, and I’m sure, much as you are now, I would have thought something was horribly wrong if he had abandoned them.”

 

“Yes! Exactly, there has to be something wrong with Malfoy, he’s gone all wrong!”

 

“Yes Harry I know what you mean, but unfortunately we musn’t allow infatuation to cloud our judgement of people. Any number of things could have influenced Mr. Malfoy’s behaivour and while the instinct to do so is normal, you cannot fix or change him. It isn’t your responsibility to do so…. Do you understand what I mean?”

 

“I… might do…. Wait! Did you say infatuation?”

 

“Yes, Harry, infatuation, I believe young people refer to it as a ‘crush’. It’s perfectly normal and I promise I of all people have no judgement, but I must caution you that pursuing this ‘crush’ and trying to ‘save’’ Mr. Malfoy cannot end well for you. But fear not! You will find someone soon enough who is just as, enticing to you, who you do not need to ‘save’ from themselves, as it were.” Dumbledore sighed, his eyes heavy with pity.

 

“No! No, no, no, no, that’s not… no! I don’t have a CRUSH on MALFOY. That makes no sense. No. I just” Harry slammed, raking his hands through his hair. That was not AT ALL the point he had been trying to get across.

 

“I don’t fancy him. I just…” He took a deep breath. “Professor, I can’t tell you how I know this, I promised I would keep it a secret, but I know you know something and you know I’m not raving mad or anything, and I think he needs help. I need to live in the kind of world where at least some terrible people might be redeemable. You want me to go out there and fulfil some prophecy that will either kill me or make me a killer. And I’ve accepted that. But I can’t let myself believe that every Death Eater, or alledged Death Eater, is beyond redemption, because if they are… what’s the point in any of this? There are enough of them out there that even by some miracle I defeat Voldemort, if they can’t be redeemed it would be for nothing. There has to be a place for people like Draco Malfoy in the world that we’re fighting for. I can’t explain any better than that why its so important to me, but there you go.”

 

It took the headmaster a long time to form a response, so long in fact that Harry began to wonder if he had forgotten to give his response out outs. He hadn’t entirely known how he felt, and he certainly hadn’t expected such a speech to come pouring out of him, but somehow he found the words rang true. He was relieved to see a human side of Draco Malfoy in the bathroom because if Draco Malfoy, his schoolyard bully could have a heart underneath it all, then maybe there was hope for some of the others. And yeah, it might not be the best heart out there, it might be severely lacking in a lot of ways come to think of it, but did that really disqualify it from being worth fighting for?

 

Finally the old man responded, “you’re a much better man than I was at your age Harry.”

 

“Oh. Um, okay… cheers?”

 

“I appreciate your desire to see the best in everyone Harry, really I do, I believe it is your greatest strength of character. Unfortunately I cannot force help on those who do not want it, and Mr. Malfoy has already made it very clear that my assistance and protection is not welcomed. I have attempted to reach out to Mr. Malfoy and he has not been interested… I’m afraid until such time as Draco comes to us seeking sanctuary we cannot do any more. We would gladly do our best to ensure the safety of any student who needed it, but not everyone can be saved and that is sometimes due to the sad fact that not everyone wants to be saved. I believe Mr. Malfoy may be in that latter category.”

 

“He isn’t though! I know he wants out of this!”

 

“Until such time as he approaches myself, or any other member of the Order of the Phoenix to express this desire I am afraid my hands are tied.” Dumbledore sighed. “I am ever so sorry to have disappointed you Harry.”

 

“Yeah” Harry mumbled, “its alright, I understand.”Ever reliable my arse, thought Harry privately. Someone as proud as Draco Malfoy would never ask for sanctuary from the Order of the Phoenix, especially if Dumbledore was right and it had been offered and rejected before. He just wouldn’t do it.

 

Before he turned to leave Dumbledore stopped him “I do hope you put the issue of Draco Malfoy out of your head for the time being Harry, there are other things that are more worthy of your attention.”

 

As he made the journey back to his common room Harry instinctively fished out his map, silently disagreeing with the headmaster’s parting words.

 

***

 

As soon as he returned to his common room Harry began to plot. If all it took was for Draco to ask for help, then Harry was going to make him ask the damn question. He didn’t know how, but Malfoy’s crumpled expression when he hit Harry with that curse echoed in his head. He knew Malfoy wasn’t as happy in his new position as Death Eater (and he was a Death Eater, regardless of what Ron and Hermione thought) as he pretended to be, and somehow that rubbed Harry entirely the wrong way.

It wasn’t long before Harry couldn’t deal with his thoughts about the blond swirling constantly through his head. He needed answers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This chapter is my longest so far (5,600 words!)   
> I hope you enjoy :)   
> Thank you to everyone who has left Kudos so far, you are making me very happy :)

“OI Malfoy!” Harry shouted one afternoon as Malfoy made his way ahead of him in a deserted corridor, finally surrendering to the frustration that had been building over the past weeks.

 

Draco turned, started and took in Potter’s ragged appearance. He supposed he ought to have expected this, he had been painfully aware of the other boy’s eyes following him since their unfortunate encounter in the bathroom. If he were being quite honest he might have even admitted to being impressed that Potter had suppressed his evident desire to talk to him for so long. Sighing in resignation he asked “what do you want Potter?”

 

“I want to talk to you.”

 

“Why?”

 

Having not expected the question Harry halted for a moment, “I don’t really know but for some reason I feel like I need to talk to you about what happened…”

 

“No.”

 

“No?”

 

“Thats right. No. I’m not talking about it. I don’t need to talk about it. I apologised and it won’t happen again.”

 

“It won’t happen again?” Harry asked incredulously. Had Malfoy never heard of Death Eaters?

 

“What are you Potter, my fucking echo? I said it won’t happen again, I see no reason to go back over it all. Lets move on and pretend it never happened.”

 

Thinking back over the last few weeks of watching the blond, thinking about their encounter and growing his fascination beyond levels that it had ever been before, Harry shook his head. “I can’t do that.”

 

Draco’s eyes rolled, of course he couldn’t do that. “Why not? Why do you have to get all Hufflepuff about it? You don’t like me, I don’t like you, so why on Earth should we spend time talking to each other?”

 

“Because you’re wrong.”

 

Clenching his jaw in frustration Draco forced himself to respond “what am I wrong about?”

 

“It will happen again.”

 

In all honesty Harry had just said whatever words he thought of first, he didn’t know why it was so important to him to have a conversation with Draco, but surely if he could talk to the other boy and satisfy his burning curiosity then they could get back to how they were before. If they didn’t Harry feared he may remain obsessed with the blond for much longer. But he supposed the response he gave wasn’t far off. If Draco Malfoy had become a Death Eater, like Harry had suspected, then there was no way a failed Crucio in a bathroom would be the end of his journey in the Dark Arts, those kinds of things would definitely happen again. And worse. No, Harry rationalised, he definitely had to talk to Draco about it.

 

Draco on the other hand, had gone paler than usual, which Harry hadn’t realised was possible. He knew, of course, that it was unlikely that he would make it through the war without using curses like that again, he may have to do far worse than attempt to torture his school yard rival - worries of being forced to do so kept him up night after night, and was not something he wanted to face during his daylight hours as well.

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He sneered, curling his lip and glaring at Potter, hoping to deter him from wanting to spend any more time in his company. If he were unpleasant enough to him, perhaps Potter would give him up as a lost cause, which was exactly what he was.

 

“I might do.” Harry responded, playing at nonchalance. “I might know exactly what I’m talking about.”

 

“You couldn’t possibly.” Draco

 

“Let me have a go then.” Harry proposed. “If I’m way off the mark, then I’ll admit that I don’t know anything about your situation and I’ll leave you alone. If I’m right though, I just want to talk to you.”

 

Draco didn’t reply, but the fact that he wasn’t arguing and had made no attempt to leave seemed to Harry like agreement enough.

 

“I think” Harry began, “that you took the Dark Mark. No one else believes me, they say that there’s no way that Voldemort would take a teenager into his gang of Death Eaters, but I think that since your dad was shipped off to Azkaban its been up to you to take his place. I used to think you were really keen to do it, that maybe you were just as much an evil stuck up pureblood as you act. But I don’t think that’s true anymore. I think you have the Dark Mark and it makes you sick. I don’t think you want what that mark means. I don’t know if you don’t believe in the whole Death Eater ideology or if you just don’t have the stomach for violence, but either way I think at least part of that evil git persona you put out it just an act.”

 

Harry reached the end of his speech, sharing all of the little pieces of information he had found on Malfoy (through what could only be described as mild stalking) over the past few weeks into his one theory. He hoped he wasn’t wrong.

 

Draco bit his lip. He was frustrated with himself for being so obvious and for leaving himself vulnerable to Potter, who apparently was able to see through him and his act. The thought was equal parts liberating and terrifying. With his glance firmly on the ground between his and Potter’s shoes he mumbled “where did you want to talk?”

 

Harry watched the blond, his eyes downcast and face flushed slightly with what Harry couldn’t quite believe was embarrassment. Somehow he always presumed Draco Malfoy was above such a common emotion as embarrassment. He was pleased though, that his (MILD) stalking had proven effective, and he had been correct in his assessment of Draco Malfoy. A large part of him wanted to race back to Gryffindor tower and tell Hermione he had been right! But he couldn’t do that, 1) because he was certain he would never get an opportunity to speak to Malfoy like this again. If he ran off, even for a minute, he doubted Malfoy would give him another chance and 2) The match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw for the cup had just finished, everyone would be immersed in either a victory party or a ‘we lost so lets all drink ourselves silly and forget’ night. It struck him that this might be the first time he had ever been more interested to spend time with someone (especially Malfoy!) than to find out about Quiddich! Of course, Draco had always been almost as fascinating to Harry as Quiddich, though his previous interest had been confined to interest to prove his ‘Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater’ theory, not his ‘Draco Malfoy might not be as bad as I thought’ theory, but either way, the blond was more interesting than a Quiddich match Harry hadn’t even participated in. The thought of his rival as ‘Draco Malfoy, (at least semi) repentant Death Eater’ made him smile, he knew something about the elusive boy that perhaps no one else did. He chose not to think too much about why that was such a satisfying feeling.

 

Harry lead Draco through the halls, his feet carrying him forward without much input from his brain. In fact, he wasn’t even aware that he was heading towards the room of requirement until he arrived at the start of the hall.

 

“You’re bringing me to the come and go room for this chat?” Draco asked eyebrows raised. Of course Potter would chose the headquarters of his little Defence Club from the year before for his attempt at converting the Death Eater. Maybe he considered it poetic justice, the follower of the Dark Lord being asked to defect in the meeting place of Dumbledore’s Army. But Draco knew he couldn’t defect. He couldn’t convert or repent. It wasn’t an option.

 

“Come and go room? Huh, I call it the Room of Requirement. You know it?” Harry asked, pushing the door open. Draco didn’t answer but followed Harry in. Harry had asked for a place to chat with the other boy, somewhere that Draco might be comfortable enough to answer some of Harry’s questions and the room had delivered a strangely appealing mix of the Gryffindor and Slytherin common rooms.

 

There were plush green couches surrounding a warm fire place, the walls were a deep red and silver and gold made up in equal share the decoration around the side of the walls, up the edges of the fireplace and through the detailing of the carpeting. Overall the effect was surprisingly cozy. Draco smirked. Of course Potter would attempt to charm him into spilling his darkest secrets, of course he would. He sat in one of the arm chairs and waited for Potter to tell him, in a soothing voice that this was a safe space. Potter unceremoniously dropped into one of the large armchairs by the fire, tossing his jumper off and into the room behind him as he got comfortable. He sat still, waiting for Draco to approach.

 

“So, what did you want to discuss with me then Potter?” Draco asked, seeing no point in waiting for Potter to sort himself out.

 

“I want to ask why you joined the Death Eaters.” Harry told him, refusing to break eye contact.

 

“And if I don’t answer?”

 

“I suppose you don’t technically need to answer me. I get that you have no reason to trust me, or talk to me at all, but I get the feeling you want someone to talk to about all of this.”

 

Draco regarded the boy sitting across from him curiously. Potter had to have a motive for all of this, he had to have some reason for wanting to find out this information, that much was obvious. Of course he didn’t just want to have a chat about Draco’s home life, his family’s mistakes or how ever he wanted to think of Draco’s unfortunate involvement with the Dark Lord. Draco didn’t know if Potter was waiting to hear a confession so that he could run off to Dumbledore or whoever to encourage them to weed out the Death Eater, or if he was just genuinely curious. He didn’t know where Potter’s interest came from, but Potter was right, he didn’t really have anyone else to talk to about the whole mess. He couldn’t really tell his friends, he couldn’t confess to them in definite terms, the only thing keeping any of them from the panic that haunted him every day was the belief that they were still too young to be conscripted. He couldn’t talk to his parents, his father for obvious reasons, and his mother because she was so obviously heartbroken by his involvement already, he couldn’t add to her burden by telling her how much it was killing him. Severus knew, of course, but confessing to his godfather that his job was slowly destroying him would achieve nothing. Snape knew, but there was nothing he could do. He could offer to do things for Draco, to help him, but if the Dark Lord found out, then Draco’s situation could be worse.

 

“I’m not confessing to being a Death Eater Potter, you aren’t going to trap me.” He told Potter, however much he wanted to talk about things, he couldn’t give him any ammunition for whatever his motive was.

 

“Alright…” Potter nodded, seeming to understand Draco’s reluctance. “What about we just talk hypothetically? I realise you don’t owe me anything and yeah…. I guess I’m just confused. Just… hypothetically, if you were thinking about becoming a Death Eater, why would you do it? I mean, sure, you’re a dick and you’re all pureblood and all that, but surely working with Voldemort can’t be worth it…” Harry stammered, awkwardly trying to get his question across.

 

Strangely, Potter’s awkward attempt to question him put Draco at ease. Potter had always seen him in the way Draco made sure everyone saw him. As the spoiled, privileged arsehole he acted as. In a lot of ways Draco’s real personality was quite similar, he was undeniably spoiled and privileged, and being caring and friendly had been strictly trained out of him. Few classmates suspected how strict an upbringing the Slytherin Prince had actually had, and few could relate to the pressure put on pureblood heirs to behave ‘properly’. Behaving properly, for families like the Weasleys, meant having good manners, but for the majority of old families, it meant suppressing your personality in order to reflect the image your family wanted to put forward. It was the very reason that Augusta Longbottom had such difficulties with her grandson, he couldn’t suppress his personality if his life depended on it. Despite Potter not knowing that Draco was unlikely to be the person he knew, he still wanted to talk to him. His persistence was endearing.

 

“Well,” Draco began, surrendering to his own desire to get something, anything, off his chest “to start with, most people, hypothetically, wouldn’t chose to join, they would be conscripted.”

 

“Conscripted? Like for the army?”

 

“I don’t really understand that comparison” Draco confessed, “but essentially we wouldn’t be asked if we wanted to join, we would be told. Hypothetically we would then have to consider the consequences of saying no, and given that those consequences are too great for most people to be willing to accept, we would have to do as we are told.”

 

Harry nodded, following along, “that doesn’t make sense though, there are plenty of people who don’t become Death Eaters…”

 

“Yes, and of course, they accept being put on the Dark Lord’s hit list. But the difference is in which families. My father didn’t want to be a Death Eater, and yes that I can admit to, its a matter of public record. Our grandparents didn’t know Voldemort was insane, they saw someone who promised to bring back pride to pureblood culture, they didn’t know. But they forced their kids to sign up. Then of course, once you’re in there’s no out. You die and so do your family. If your own kids don’t join its seen as though you’re not loyal enough. And then of course, even if you do try to leave, you have the whole Light side, with the Order of the Phoenix ready to kill you too! Even look at your little defence club from last year, the Dumbledore club-”

 

“Dumbledore’s Army” Harry corrected.

 

“It doesn’t matter.” Malfoy snapped, engrossed in his own story, “even you lot, who are supposed to be the paragons of virtue, were preparing to kill people like me and the other Slytherins. We can’t go against our families because it could get them killed, and even if we did, we would likely be killed anyway. Its a pretty hopeless situation.”

 

“To be fair Malfoy its not like you guys wouldn’t go killing us right back.”

 

“Yes, and I suppose thats fair, but we don’t have a choice. You do.”

 

Harry shook his head, “no, everyone has a choice. Not everyone has easy choices but there is a choice.”

 

Draco shook his head, “No, I don’t think you understand. Imagine the Ministry Weasley, the one with glasses yeah, he’s had a fall out with his family over his whole not-wanting-to-live-his-life-as-a-pauper thing yes?”

 

Harry groaned, there was so much wrong with that sentence, “first of all, his name is Percy. And second of all, he didn’t fall out because he didn’t want to be poor, he abandoned his family and their values just for some job!”

 

“And this caused a rift among the Weasles?”

 

“Weasleys” Harry corrected, “but yes, of course it did.”

 

“Right, so going along with Dumbledore and generally being quite unbothered about following traditions is a value that the Weasles hold. They see it as a mark of good character to fraternise with muggles and be the headmasters little family of lapdogs, yes?”

 

“Your phrasing of all of that could do with some work, but yeah okay” Harry nodded, wanting to make more of a fuss about the way Malfoy was talking about the Weasleys, but curious as to where the point was going.

 

“So when a member of the family turns their back on that tradition, that... mentality, they are ostracised. They no longer are associated with because they are seen to have failed to meet their family’s expectation- regardless of the morality of that expectation, which I won’t debate with you, the consequences of failing to meet that standard are to be shunned to some degree- is that right?”

 

“Well yeah I suppose so, I mean, Mrs. Weasley keeps trying to get back in contact with Percy, she sends him letters and gifts and things trying to convince him to come home- but yeah, the rest of them aren’t happy with him- but fair enough! He showed his true colours and proved he’s an arse, why would they want to be around someone like that?”

 

“Okay yes! That leads me to my point! Now imagine that all of those things you believe about the treatment of the Ministry Weasley, that he proved what he’s really like and therefore deserves his ostracism- but imagine you lived in a family where ostracism involved more than not being spoken to, but instead extended to being written out of the family inheritance, none of your friends talking to you and perhaps even, in extreme cases, being a target for violence from your family and other families. Despite the fact that many ‘Death Eaters’ aren’t involved in the Dark Lord’s service willingly, most cannot leave. It’s not about making the wrong choices, its about not having any to begin with. So while the Ministry Weasley has the freedom to make choices that may endanger or offend his family, either rightly or wrongly, they are descisions he is able to make freely and until you understand that that is not the situation for most ‘Dark’ families, you won’t be able to understand ‘Death Eater’ dynamics.” Draco explained. Then he sighed “the Ministry Weasley won’t get himself, or the rest of his family killed for not joining the Dumbledore Club. If upsetting the family was all that Death Eaters had to worry about if they turned away, more of them would have done so. Unfortunately we aren’t so lucky.”

 

Harry noticed that in the last comment Malfoy hadn’t bothered to put air quotes around ‘Death Eaters’, and he was starting to give up on the hypotheticals.

 

“There is still a way out though.” Harry mumbled, hoping he wasn’t pushing his luck.

 

Draco laughed darkly, maybe he really was Potter’s charity case after all, he could kill Death Eaters with a clean conscience as long as he saved one first. “No there isn’t Potter.” His head bowed, not wanting to meet Potter’s painfully earnest eyes.

 

“Dumbledore will protect you, and your family if we need to! It’s better to be neutral in the war than contribute to the wrong side, you can be hidden away! The Order will take your family somewhere...” Harry told him, moving out of his seat to sit closer to the other boy. He didn’t know why it was so important to him that Malfoy accept help... except that more honestly he did know, he wanted to help Malfoy because of how often he felt chafed by the expectations on his shoulders, how often he was expected to go along with plans made without him- hearing Draco’s story made Harry realise just how similar they were, and for the first time Harry was grateful that if he was going to be dragged into this war against his will, at least it was on the right side.

 

Draco looked up at the boy now kneeling in front of him, staring up as if begging Draco to reconsider his position. “Potter, do you honestly think anyone in the Order of the Pheonix would want to protect Lucius Malfoy, or even myself? I could understand protecting mother, she is the only one in the family who could truly be described as innocent to any of it, but father and I? They would gladly throw us to the mercy of the Dark Lord, my family have never been ‘good people’, I wouldn’t blame anyone for not wanting to risk their own safety for us. Even if, by some miracle, we were taken in, how long would it be before something became a bigger priority than protecting the Malfoy’s?”

 

Harry looked at his knees, trying to imagine asking Arthur to risk his life, and potentially his wife and children’s lives to protect Lucius Malfoy. Even for a man as kindhearted as Arthur Harry had to agree, it would be a long shot.

 

“Maybe I can protect you?” Harry suggested weakly. He didn’t know how he would go about helping the Malfoy’s, he didn’t know where he could hide them, how he would protect them, or even if he wanted to protect them (Draco yes. His parents, not so much.)

 

“You would do that for the person who poisoned your best friend?” Draco asked in a whisper.

 

His mind filled with images of every nasty encounter he had had with Potter, from the first day on the train when he had been so unpleasant his mind rattled past memories. The time Draco dressed up as a dementor to frighten Potter during the Quiddich game. Every time Draco laughed at Harry for having no family. Numerous instances of Draco calling Harry’s friends names. The time Draco made the Potter Stinks badges. The way he had made fun of Harry about his reaction to Cedric’s death. His constant insults, hexes, curses, shouts and punches. Even his attempt at throwing the Cruciatus curse in that damned bathroom.

 

He didn’t understand why Potter would offer his help.

 

“You admit you did that then?” Potter asked, his posture turning stiff again.

 

Draco met his eyes, nodding a nod so small Harry almost didn’t notice it. “I didn’t mean to.” He murmured.

 

“That seems to happen to you a lot” Harry observed.

 

“Yes, that’s true. I didn’t know your friend would end up on the receiving end of the poison, I really didn’t!” Draco pleaded, unable to handle the harsh look in his rival’s eye.

 

“But you did mean to poison someone?”

 

“I had to! I don’t want to do any of this! That’s what I’m trying to explain. I had hoped that Slughorn would keep the mead for long enough that the poison would lose potency... I didn’t think he would serve it to guests within a few days. But I can’t do nothing. Every few days I get asked for progress reports with reminders of what will happen to my parents if I don’t act fast. At least with a failed attempt the other Slytherins write home to tell their parents what happened and it just looks like I’m bad at it, no one gets punished for me being unable to follow through with it...” Draco was shaking again, he stopped talking to wrap his arms around himself, as though protecting his limbs from falling off. He suddenly looked nothing like the aggressive bully that Harry had come to dislike so passionately. For the first time, Malfoy looked... fragile.

 

“Draco... what is it you have to do?” Harry asked gently.

 

At the sound of Potter calling him by name Draco’s head snapped up, he wished it hadn’t though. Upon hearing the question his eyes filled with tears. It was the second time Draco had succumbed to such a weakness in front of Potter and shame bubbled hotly in the back of his throat as he fought back sobs. He shook his head, unwilling to talk about it.

 

The sight of Draco in such a state shook Harry. While he had never liked Malfoy he couldn’t deny that the sight of him in such an obvious state of distress made his chest ache in sympathy. Draco Malfoy was proud to the point of arrogance, and that’s exactly the way he should be, Harry decided, anything else and something was very wrong. All Harry wanted was to stop the tears, to calm him down, maybe to go back to talking. He knew the Death Eater conversation was closed for the night, but he found himself enjoying the puzzle that was Draco Malfoy. He made Harry curious, in the same way that his yearly adventures often did. Just spending time with Draco filled Harry with a strange feeling of adrenaline that he hugely enjoyed.

 

“It’s okay,” Harry told him, moving to beside Draco, he reached out and awkwardly patted the shuddering boy’s arm. Draco flushed at the fumbled attempt at affection, platonic and friendly through it was. Affection was something often missing from Draco’s life. While he had always known he was loved, it was exclusively expressed in the most formal ways. If pleased with his behaviour, his father would offer a congratulatory hand shake. If he did well, his mother might offer a quick kiss on the cheek. Nannys and household staff were explicitly forbidden from showing ‘crass displays of emotion’ to Draco. As a result, Draco’s first hug had been from Pansy Parkinson after his encounter with Hargid’s giant chicken in third year. She had visited Draco in the hospital wing and thrown her arms around him in an entirely inappropriate display of emotion. Draco, so stunned by the sensation, had held her equally tightly, relishing in the moment of contact. Unfortunately the result was that Pansy became convinced that Draco returned her infatuation with him, he hadn’t been sure how to rid her of that delusion and had settled instead for reverting to his usual cold display of friendship. Because most pureblood couples were unnaturally stiff and formal with each other, Pansy remained under the belief that she and Draco had been romantically involved since then. It seemed easier not to correct her.

 

Harry continued awkwardly patting Draco, despite the fact that his shivering had calmed considerably. Harry too, was unpracticed in affection giving (and affection receiving) though he was trying to follow the lead which his friends had unknowingly provided. He thought of how Hermione had always rushed to comfort Harry in his moments of emotional overload (and there had been embarrassingly many of those in the past few years). Physical contact was not something Harry was particularly good at, it was true. He didn’t have very touchy friends (despite Hermione’s hugging- which was infrequent and easy to get the hang of) and his past attempts at more-than-platonic affection had been nothing short of disastrous. Despite this Harry found himself enjoying the sensation of stroking the blond boy’s arm, of feeling his warmth beside him and seeing how he was actually helping to lessen Draco’s evidence of anxiety.

 

The two boys continued to sit side by side for a while after conversation ended in what could very almost be described as a companionable silence. Neither wanted to break the oddly calm and cozy sensation that had descended over them both following Draco’s confessional.

 

It was warm, Draco noticed, having someone else sit so close to you. He wasn’t sure he had ever experienced anything quite like it. Potter was no longer trying to make conversation and the two were just sitting. Draco didn’t know anyone else who was so content to sit in silence, in Draco’s usual experience, if he wanted company, he had to put up with making small talk and pretending to listen to whatever his companion was on about. Slowly Draco relaxed more and more into his seat, his eyelids eventually falling closed.

 

Harry watched as Draco’s head lolled to the side, coming to rest on Harry’s shoulder. Harry couldn’t help but allow a small smile to break through. In his sleep Draco looked far more his own age, like a teenager, Draco so often behaved and looked much older than he really was- like a slightly shorter version of Lucius Malfoy. It was shockingly pleasant to see Malfoy relaxed. His white eyelashes rested gently against his pale cheek. There was so little colour in Malfoys features but the effect was strangely appealing, someone could easily mistake the boy for being carved from marble.

 

Harry was comfortable, and regretfully he resolved himself to waking the sleeping Malfoy. He really didn’t want to, Malfoy looked more relaxed than Harry had ever seen him, and significantly better than he’d looked in the last few weeks. As gently as he could, Harry nudged Draco’s shoulder. He didn’t want to startle the other boy, who he didn’t expect would be thrilled about being woken up… or about falling asleep on Harry in the first place. He took a moment to marvel at the way in which their relationship had changed over the course of the evening. They had always been enemies, but Harry hadn’t thought of Draco quite as a nemesis since their confrontation a few weeks prior. He didn’t think of Draco was an enemy, but tonight he wondered if Draco might be at risk of crossing into the category of friend. Unsure how he felt about that, and unwilling to examine it any closer Harry shook Draco’s shoulder more forcefully.

 

He was still being gentle, nudging the sleeping boy carefully, hoping to prod him into consciousness. “Malfoy” he whispered, nudging again.

 

No response.

 

He should have expected Draco wouldn’t be the kind of person to make these things easy.

 

“Draco” Harry called softly.

 

Draco rolled in his sleep, bringing his legs up and curling into a ball on the sofa as he tried to escape Harry’s prodding.

 

Harry snickered, Draco looked almost cute. Almost. Because Harry didn’t think Draco was actually cute. Because that would be weird. He was just reluctant to wake Draco because he knew how much he disliked being woken up when he was sleeping, he was being nice. It had nothing to do with the fact that Draco looked positively angelic in his sleep. None at all.

 

“Malfoy!” Harry snapped, both in a renewed attempt to wake the boy and as a way to shut his mind off wandering the way it had been. There was no need at all for thoughts like that. None. No.

 

“Whatisit?” Draco grumbled, his eyelids determinedly squeezing closed tighter.

 

“You fell asleep you knob, get up we have to go back to our common rooms” Harry told him, trying not to laugh- he didn’t think it would do him any favours.

 

Draco’s eyes snapped open and he immediately righted himself. It looked like someone had attached him to an electrical outlet the way he sprung up. “You let me fall asleep?” He demanded, glaring accusingly at Harry.

 

Already Draco was righting his robes, fastidiously smoothing down creases that Harry couldn’t even see. He ran a hand through his hair which obediently stayed in their newly assigned position pushed back off Draco’s forehead. Harry insisted that he was not disappointed at all by the change.

 

After far more fussing than Harry would have ever thought necessary, Draco turned to face him “alight I think it’s time we go back to our rooms then.”

 

“Yeah it must be, I don’t even know how late it is” Harry said. It felt like he and Draco had been talking for days, not hours. For all Harry knew, he had missed classes, exams might have passed (though he hoped that wasn’t the case, Hermione’s wrath would not be worth getting out of examinations- though Draco’s company might make for a decent motivation to risk his best friend’s rage…)

 

“I hope I sufficiently answered your questions then Potter?” Draco asked, trying not to cringe at how much he had let off his chest.

 

“Yeah, thanks for the chat Malfoy. You gave me quite a bit to think about, and I hope you think about what I said too.”

 

“I’ll give the matter due consideration” Draco told him diplomatically. He didn’t want to say that he desperately wished he could take Harry up on his offer of protection, hell, at this case he would gladly take an offer of mercy, of liberation, of friendship. Admittedly that last option was unlikely. Painfully so. But never the less, Draco would have gladly accepted. If it were on offer. Which it wasn’t. And wouldn’t be.

 

The two boys exited the Room of Requirement and proceeded down the hall before turning to head to their own common rooms. Harry had his invisibilty cloak firmly in his pocket, ready to go if he was caught wandering the halls. He wasn’t sure how Draco was going to deal with being caught out after curfew, but Harry trusted that he had his ways. Draco just gave off that impression sometimes, like he always knew what he was doing. After the conversation they had had that evening Harry wondered how much of that was put on for show.

 

“Potter?” Draco called from down the hallway, before they went their separate ways.

 

“Yeah?” Harry asked, almost excited by the possibility that Malfoy wanted to go back to talking.

 

“I still don’t like you” he said, smiling. Malfoy had a nice smile, Harry noted, wondering why he hadn’t noticed before. It might have something to do with the fact that he couldn’t recall having ever seen Malfoy smiling for real, he always sneered, or smirked. Seeing a genuine smile grace the pale boy’s features made Harry wish he would do it more often. What a bizarre thing to think of someone you despise so much.

 

“I know Malfoy, I don’t like you either” Harry told him, smiling back just as brightly.

 

Draco’s face flushed a bright pink, all the way up to the roots of his white blond hair before he muttered, “yeah, good, as long as that’s clear,” and shuffled away.

 

Harry’s smile widened considerably and he returned to Gryffindor common room with his grin plastered firmly across his face.


	4. Chapter 4

When Harry climbed back through the portrait hole the remnants of Gryffindor’s post Quiddich party was littered through out the common room, banners were left on the ground, confetti decorated nearly every surface and cups and goblets were left everywhere. Harry smiled again, Gryffindor must have won.

 

Hermione, Ron and Ginny were seated by the fireplace, in the groups usual spot, the Gryffindor common room version of where Harry and Draco had been seated just minutes ago.As soon as they noticed Harry approaching, their conversation halted abruptly. Harry squirmed and slowed his pace when he noticed the expressions on his friends’ faces.

 

“Where the hell have you been?” Ron demanded, the first to break the awkward silence.

 

“Nowhere” Harry snapped, ready to get defensive, “I just wanted to get out for a bit…”

 

“Oh yeah, and it didn’t occur to you that we would be worried? That we would wonder where you’d gotten off to?” He asked, his voice rising.

 

Harry would never be known for having an even temper, the accusative tone in Ron’s voice was already sparking Harry’s irritation but he didn’t want to get into an argument. “Why would you worry though? I know I didn’t tell you, but I don’t always tell you where I’m going… I shouldn’t have to.”

 

“Harry,” Hermione said gently, using her ‘lets all be reasonable about this’ voice “we don’t want to start an argument with you-“

 

Ron broke her off with a loud snort. She responded with a glare. Harry itched to call Ron out, to ask him what his bloody problem was, but instead he took a deep breath and waited patiently for Hermione to return to her (presumably well rehearsed) script.

 

“As I was saying, we don’t want to start an argument with you, but we are concerned about you.”

 

Ginny’s line was up next “We’ve been talking since our conversation earlier about you being obsessed with Malfoy... it started as a joke but well, now we’re not so sure..”

 

“We really don’t want you to feel ganged up on Harry. You’re our friend and if you need it, we are here to talk.” Hermione finished. Harry wondered how many times the girls had practiced to get the timing right on their ‘friendly discussion’. He didn’t like the tone of voice they used, they spoke as though he was a child who had been caught being naughty and was being given an opportunity to confess.

 

“I know I can talk to you… I never felt like I couldn’t.” Harry told them, trying to make his voice sound as sincere as possible.

 

“Alight then” Hermione said, with a painfully gentle smile, “so, where were you tonight?”

 

The way she phrased the question, as though Harry had walked right into a trap sparked his temper right off. “Just because I don’t give you guys updates on everyone I talk to and everywhere I go doesn’t mean I’m hiding something. So if you could stop being so bloody patronising and acting like I owe you an explanation just because I was out late one night that would be great” Harry snapped.

 

It was Ginny’s turn to use Hermione’s ‘concerned friend’ voice (Harry wondered if Hermione had coached her on how to get the tone of voice just right) “Harry, none of us are suggesting that you’re hiding anything.” 

 

“Not yet we aren’t” Ron grumbled.

 

Despite being irritated by Ron’s aggression, Harry had to admit he appreciated his friend’s directness.

 

“We just want you to be able to trust us” Ginny told him, staying calm and measured, as though she was taking the time to weigh each word before she spoke them, she didn’t sound anything like herself.

 

“I do trust you, but you have to trust me too. I can’t tell you where I was, but please respect that I wouldn’t say that without reason” it took all of Harry’s diplomatic effort to answer her that way, his mind was shouting at him to tell them to shove it, but he figured he would eventually wind up feeling guilty if he did that. So he grit his teeth and pretended he had nothing more to say.

 

Hermione gave a long suffering sigh, which made Harry clench his teeth even harder. “You were with Malfoy weren’t you?” She asked.

 

Harry sputtered, “No! Why would you think- no! Malfoy? Thats barmy Hermione even for you. Maybe the pressure of schoolwork has finally gotten to you, why would I be out with Malfoy?”

 

Internally he was wincing. No response could have possibly made it sound more like he was spending time with Malfoy.

 

“So what were you doing?” Ginny asked, “snogging some girl?”” Her tone sounded flippant, as though she didn’t care what the answer was, but Harry caught the edge in her voice the slightly forced way she asked the question as if she was barely curious.

 

“What? No, of course not.” He scoffed. No one seemed to challenge him on this answer, and Harry noted that Ginny’s posture relaxed slightly.

 

“Its just not like you to miss Quiddich, and the post match party…” Hermione told him, prompting him to explain.

 

“We won by the way, not that you’re bothered.” Ron huffed.

 

“Yeah I noticed from the decoration. Congratulations, I knew you guys would win it.” Harry smiled.

 

“You’re the captain! You couldn’t make the match, yeah we get that, Dumbledore lessons and whatever, but you would have kicked up more of a stink about it any other time, and nothing would have stopped you from getting to the after party!” Ron shouted. His feelings had been particularly wounded by his best friend’s absence from the game. Harry had been the first person who had actually believed in his abilities to play, he had certianly been the first person to actively encourage Ron to participate, and not just to make up numbers. He knew when Harry had given his excuse that he had lessons with Dumbledore

 

“Harry listen,” Hermione began, clearing her throat, “I don’t know if you were with Malfoy or what you were doing, but I am getting really worried about how obsessed with him you’ve become. I won’t pretend to understand why Draco Malfoy is so endlessly interesting to you but I think you really need to be careful. I think its very likely that he’s aware of how fascinated by him you are and I can see him using that against you. He’s bad news Harry, he always has been and you used to know that. Now it seems like he’s all you care about. I just want you to be careful. Please.”

 

“Hermione, look, I know you’re worried about me and I appreciate it- I really do. But I think your worry is a bit misplaced. I’m not interested in Malfoy in any way, I have nothing to be concerned about.” Harry told her, trying to copy her tone. He spoke as though he were consoling a small child, telling them they had nothing to worry about monsters under their bed. He felt ridiculous. He probably sounded even more so.

 

“Alright Harry, whatever you say.” She told him, rising from her spot. “I guess I’ll go to bed then.”

 

Hermione left with an altogether far too sympathetic look in Harry’s direction. He shifted under her gaze, unsure why he couldn’t quite meet her gaze. He didn’t agree with them, not in the slightest, but somehow whenever his friends brought out their ‘we really care about you and we’re worried about you’ talks, he felt instantly guilty. He knew his friends loved him, despite how little he managed to believe he could say that. In a lot of ways Harry still felt like the abandoned orphan boy who no one cared about, he absolutely did not take his friends for granted, and was instead hyper aware of what being without them felt like. Whenever he was given a ‘we care about you’ talk, he wondered if there was more he should be doing to prove that he knew and that he cared in return. Maybe he wasn’t as good at this friendship thing as he thought. In first year he had pretty much gone with the flow and followed the examples around him, but Harry wondered, not for the first time, if in fact he had missed some important lessons along the way.

 

While Harry was busy reflecting, Ron too, vacated the common room. Harry and Ginny were left alone. A month ago, Harry would have been thrilled to find himself alone with a newly single Ginny Weasley, in fact, he had spent countless hours dreaming of different scenarios that began in that exact way.

 

She had a strange look in her eye as she watched him closely, not yet speaking. He gazed right back. Ginny was easily the most attractive girl in Gryffindor, Harry noted, her dark eyes stood out against her pale skin, her red hair framed her face like a firey halo, she was undoubtedly beautiful. Her personality was what made her all the more attractive though. Ginny was the kind of person who could make anyone smile, she was open, lively and Harry always found himself happier after spending time with her. It was any wonder that Harry found himself enchanted by her for so long, but in the recent weeks Harry’s feelings had began to shift. He still found Ginny attractive, he still loved spending time with her, but he didn’t feel any level of excitement about her.

 

“I am sorry about all that” she told him, shifting closer.

 

“Thats okay. I know you all mean it for the best.” He smiled widely, trying to reassure her. Yes, he disagreed, but he also appreciated their concern. Or so he kept trying to remind himself.

 

“You know, I was hoping to get a chance to chat with you after the match.” She said smiling coyly up at him. Harry blinked.

 

Ginny shifted closer to him, running her hand along his thigh. Harry watched as her small hand made its way back and forth from his knee to mid thigh. She was staring at him expectantly through her thick auburn lashes.

 

Harry shifted slightly and Ginny must have interpreted it as some kind of sign. She lifted her head up just slightly to bring her lips into contact with Harry’s. Ginny’s lips were soft, slightly moist and were moving gently against his. Kissing Ginny was undboutedly more pleasant than kissing Cho Chang, much less wet for one thing. Harry focused on the feel of her small body next to his, her flowery smell wrapping around him comfortably. He certainly liked kissing Ginny, and responded to her (if somewhat hesitantly), but he couldn’t help but feel underwhelmed.

 

It was ridiculous really, Ginny was beautiful, sweet, lovely and all manner of other good things. For months he had day dreamed about having the chance to kiss her, to spend time with her, to do anything at all with her, now he just felt a bit weird. Sensationally the kiss was nice. Emotionally and mentally he found himself growing a little bit bored. That couldn’t be right… How could someone get bored kissing someone like Ginny?

 

Eventually Harry pulled back, not quite able to meet Ginny’s eyes. She looked so hopeful, it was horrible. “Umm, thanks?”

 

“Did you just thank me for snogging you?” She snickered, her face slightly flushed (unfortunately for a different reason to Harry).

 

“I think so?”

 

“Well… did you want to do it again?” She asked, biting her lip. Harry watched as her plump lower lip was sucked behind her teeth, not long ago the sight would have distracted him for hours, if not days, afterwards. Now it just looked like a lip was being chewed on.

 

“Listen Ginny,” He began, not sure what he was going to say…

“Oh no.” She groaned, dropping her head into her hands. Harry winced, feeling amazingly uncomfortable. “I completely had the wrong idea didn’t I? Thats so embarrassing!”

 

Her ears had gone a violent shade of pink and her face was completely hidden.

 

“No, no Ginny, please don’t be embarrassed” Harry pleaded, “you haven’t entirely got the wrong idea.”

 

She didn’t lift her head and Harry sighed. “I really fancied you, and I’m sorry but I guess I don’t want to make things awkward with your family if anything goes wrong. And I suppose more importantly with a war and everything I just don’t think its a good idea, I don’t think I can really get involved with anyone given how much I’m going to have to focus on this war… I’m really sorry.”

 

“You can’t decide for me though.” She said, her head lifting, “My family could deal with it, and its not like you can’t date until the war is over, it could be years yet…”

 

“I know, but I just think it would be too complicated. I’m sorry…” He really felt terrible, but also really wanted her to not push the issue. Ginny was prone to being quite proud and stubborn, he worried his excuse about the war might not convince her. He sighed, making something of a show about looking disappointed and sad.

 

“We could make it work” she tried.

 

“I just.. I just don’t think i can be pulled in two different directions right now. I think if anything were going to happen at this point, it would need to be something that was easy, you know, that if things went wrong it wouldn’t be a big issue, that it would be easy to move on from. I just don’t think we could have that… I really am sorry Ginny.”

 

“Its okay” she sighed, “maybe after all this You Know Who stuff is over?”

 

“Yeah, maybe” he agreed, thinking that maybe telling her he didn’t think he would ever be interested would be what she wanted to hear.

 

When he returned to his room Harry thought about the answers he had given Ginny. She was Ron’s sister and dating her would obviously complicate his friendship wiht Ron and his relationship with the rest of the Weasleys could be strained by a romantic relationship with Ginny. But he felt saddened by the thought that any romantic entanglement might be off the table until Voldemort was gone, if he ever was. Harry didn’t want to live his life with Voldemort as the focus, he didn’t want Voldemort to be the most significant person in his life. But if he felt that way, why wasn’t he more interested in returning Ginny’s advances? Why did he use Voldemort as his excuse?

 

The whole thing confused him, it made him feel uneasy and depressed. But as the weight of the day settled on him Harry finally decided that he would surrender to sleep, future Harry could worry about it, present day Harry didn’t want to think about it anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco Malfoy made his way back to his common room in a daze. Fortunately for him, no one questioned why he was out late, though those who had noticed his absence had been quite pleased by the break in routine. Draco Malfoy was well respected and feared among Slytherins, but you couldn’t describe him as popular. Tonight he was grateful for it.

 

Making his way directly to his dormitory and immediately to his bed Draco’s mind ran over the events of the past few hours. He hadn’t planned on talking to Potter so much, or at all, and he certainly hadn’t planned on enjoying it. He had never liked Potter, the two had quite famously never gotten along, spending time with him, and enjoying that time, felt wrong. But nevertheless, Draco had enjoyed it. He didn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing around Potter because he didn’t particularly care if Potter disliked him or disapproved of something he had said. He could unapologetically be Draco because Potter would always see Malfoy first. It made things easy. If somewhat depressing.

 

Draco wasn’t a person who bared their soul naturally, though, to his credit, no one in his life was. He lay on his bed, uniform still on and squirmed at his own lingering sense of being exposed. He shouldn’t have said as much as he had. He DEFINITELY shouldn’t have fallen asleep. ESPECIALLY not on Potters fucking shoulder. He buried his face in his pillow, his cheeks and neck glowing a bright pink at the memory. He couldn’t think of a time in his life where he had ever fallen asleep in someone else’s company, when he had friends over as a child he had always felt too self conscious to fall asleep, and in his dormitory he could only sleep with the curtains tightly drawn around his bed. But apparently none of that disqualified him from dozing off on the Chosen One’s bloody shoulder. Draco wondered vaguely if his mother would ask many questions if he demanded a transfer to Durmstrang, or Beauxbattons, anywhere else really. The absolute worst part of it all, the cherry on top of Draco’s discomfort, was the fact that falling asleep against Harry ‘prophesied saviour of the wizarding world’ Potter, was the first time in months that Draco had slept without a nightmare. It really wasn’t fair.

 

Of course, it made sense… There was something about Potter that put Draco at ease. Even when they were fighting Draco had always felt sharper, more energised, around Potter. He had the kind of energy that brought things out in people. Including a bizarre and horribly misplaced desire to trust him. Trust didn’t come easily in Draco’s life, he had been taught early not to rely too much on his friends, to always have a back up plan in case someone betrayed you. Something about Harry Potter made Draco want him to be the exception. He wondered if they would ever go back to being rivals, how that would work after spending a night as they had. Draco would of course play the part if Potter was to pick up their mutual dislike again tomorrow, but something had undoubtedly changed. And how could it not? Potter was so painfully earnest, so pathetically good and seemed so determined to help Draco, despite having no reason to ever desire such a thing. It was completely illogical. And though Draco had resisted the offer of help, a small, secret part of him desperately hoped that Potter would push the issue. He realised he wanted to spend more time with him. To enjoy the presence of Harry Potter and to potentially become his friend.

 

He smiled to himself, thinking about hopelessly unlikely futures in which Draco might find himself with a friend he can trust, a confidant, someone he could talk to informally. He had never realised how badly he wanted it before but spending just an evening in Potter’s company made Draco painfully aware of his own loneliness. It helped of course that Potter was nice to look at. He had a wide, honest smile and the most expressive eyes Draco had ever encountered. He always looked attractively disheveled in a way that Draco would never be able to replicate. He allowed himself only a moment more to continue down that train of thought before firmly shutting it off. It was completely inappropriate, not the kind of thing Draco should be thinking about.

 

He sighed to himself, struggling to get comfortable. He shifted, rolled, and kicked. He pulled his blanket on and snuggled in deep… only to immediately throw it back off. He took off his shirt and flipped his pillow around. Then screwed his eyes tightly shut and demanded that his body surrender itself to sleep.

 

It didn’t.

 

For about an hour, Draco twisted and turned, trying to get comfortable, trying to force himself to sleep. He tried reimagining his evening in the come and go room to try and force his body back into its previous relaxed state. He got close, he made himself warm, propped up his pillows to give himself something to lean against, it didn’t work. He couldn’t quite reimagine the comforting smell of Potter’s body beside him.

 

In a last ditch effort to get even a moment of rest, Draco forced himself out of bed. He put his shirt and shoes back on and exited out of the common room. He made his way through the halls, his half dead with exhaustion body making its way along by sheer force of will. He wandered through the halls silently, a skill he had mastered in the last few months and made his way towards the Come and Go Room. He paced back and forth in front of the door trying to bring forward in his memory as many details as he could of what the room had looked like.

 

When the door appeared and Draco entered he nearly wept with relief. He went straight back to the sofa he had been cuddled into earlier and made himself comfortable. The fireplace kept him warm, but nevertheless he pulled a nearby blanket over himself and braced himself to fall asleep. He was finally somewhat relaxed, this was good. He just needed something more.

 

Then his eyes caught Harry’s jumper.

 

He must have forgotten it when he had left.

 

There was no way Draco was going near it. No. That would be completely pathetic.

 

He only held out for a few minutes.

 

With cheeks flaming and a vow to himself that no one would ever find out, Draco scurried from his spot and swiped the jumper. He returned quickly to his spot and curled back up, eyes darting around the room as if to be extra sure that he was alone. He closed his eyes, unable to face how low he had sunk. Bunching the jumper up he made a pillow and rested his head against it.

 

It was not at all the case that Harry Potter’s smell relaxed him enough to allow him to fall asleep. It really wasn’t. It was simply that having the smell of another person, and it really could have been any other person, was helpful to him. It was all just a matter of insomia being helped by the presence of another person. That was all it was. Honestly.

 

Despite the fact that none of his attempts to convince himself were even remotely effective, Draco began to doze off into a comfortable sleep.

 

*******

 

He should have known it had all been too easy. In the morning Pansy cornered him.

 

Draco had absolutely no desire to be interrogated by his oldest friend, in fact he wanted nothing more than to plaster his famous sneer across his face and snap at her until she gave up and left him alone. Unfortunately, Draco had been friends with Pansy for far too long. If he snapped at her she would know for sure that something was going on. Despite resembling a pug her personality was more in line with a bloodhound, seeking gossip as her prey. Draco wasn’t entirely sure why he had kept her around for so long.

 

“Where were you last night?” She asked, sliding in next to him at breakfast, getting straight to the point.

 

“Who says I was anywhere?”

 

“Oh don’t even try that with me Dray, you know that I know everything that goes on in Slytherin, that’s my whole thing. You were barely in your room last night at all. Is it your project again?” Despite how annoying she was, she did look genuinely concerned, which softened Draco’s irritation. Not by much, but a little bit.

 

“Yes, the project” he mumbled, lying.

 

“Oh honey” Pansy cooed, pushing his hair back into place, “this whole thing really is running you into the ground, surely you can take a night off? Just once? You’ll die of exhaustion before you even get a chance to finish at this rate…”

 

“Maybe that would be easier” he sighed pushing his head into his hands. The project. The mission. Whatever he called it, it loomed over his head like a dark cloud all year, the weight of what he had to do and the threat of what would happen if he failed. It was any wonder he had so eagerly wasted the evening with Potter the night before. Draco was barely holding onto his sanity as it was, a night of pretending he didn’t have the weight of the world waiting for him was an immensely attractive offer. It wasn’t the only immensely attractive part of the night either.

 

Pansy gasped at him, her hands flying in front of her mouth “surely you don’t mean that.”

 

He hadn’t thought before he spoke, he shouldn’t have said that in front of Pansy. She needed to see Draco succeed, he knew she spent her nights in terror of the day when her own parents were punished for some sort of misdeed and she was called to atone for their sins. She needed to know that she wouldn’t be doomed when her day came. Draco had no idea how to assure her that she would manage, the pressure of keeping her morale up as well as his own was just one more responsibility for him to carry with him.

 

“No, Pans, of course I don’t mean that.”

 

“Don’t say things like that then!” She chastised, swatting his arm sharply. “You have to focus, I know you can’t tell us what you’re up to, but we will help however we can, just like you might have to do for us. We can get through this, YOU can get through this. You just have to push through okay?”

 

“I know! Don’t you think I’m trying? That I don’t know what will happen if I don’t manage to pull this off?”

 

“I know you’re trying Dray, but you’ve become so reclusive - you barely ask for help, you don’t seem to be making any progress and frankly if you fail, one of us will have to step up and thats not fair either!”

 

“Fair? None of this is fair! I can’t ask for help because I barely know what I’m doing myself, I can’t tell you anything and I don’t know where to begin on asking you to do anything so if you could just leave me alone that might just be the best thing for it! I don’t need you playing the role of the mother hen on me as well as everything else.” Draco hissed, his voice finally betraying a venomous edge.

 

“Fine.” Pansy snapped, turning away from him.

 

He knew he had gone too far. He knew he shouldn’t have snapped at her, she hadn’t really done anything wrong. But really, it was about time he stopped putting up with everyone else’s shit on top of his own.

 

It wasn’t long into the day that he started to regret that line of thinking.

 

Since the start of the year Draco had largely isolated himself from the majority of Slytherin house. Crabbe and Goyle remained obedient, but were only around Draco when he required them, Blaise and Theo had all but given up on their friend after numerous attempts to help him had been rebuffed. Pansy was the most persistent, she always had been, and now he had annoyed even her. In classes he sat alone, watching as everyone else chatted with friends before lessons, as people embraced trivial gossip and got into petty arguments for no reason at all. Oh how Draco missed getting into petty fights. What he wouldn’t give to have the strength of will to throw a random hex just because he felt like it. He should have appreciated it more when he had the chance.

 

Potions was particularly gruelling. Potter came in with his merry band of misfits while Slughorn fawned all over his majesty. Draco steadfastly ignored Potter’s attempts to catch his eye, not acknowledge the pity he knew he would see there.

 

The previous night had shown Draco a side of Potter he had only ever been able to hope for, but not one he had ever expected to find. He had always been told that Potter was arrogant, hypocritical - that he expected to be treated like royalty but shunned others who deserved similar treatment, judgemental and uncaring. Severus had warned Draco before starting school that Potter would not be what everyone had expected the Golden Boy to be, and Draco had never questioned his godfather’s warnings. He had no reason to, the Boy Who Lived made seeker in first year, leaned entirely on Granger for his marks, knew nothing about the wizarding world and expected everyone to live up to his muggle standards, he was powerful but undisciplined, messy but unreasonably hot… but that was neither here nor there. The point was that Draco had always been comfortable with the view that Potter was being groomed to be his generation’s Gilderoy Lockhart. While he had always hoped that there might be more to the hero he’d heard stories about, he never dared to assume those hopes would amount to anything.

 

But then last night happened.

 

Potter had been decent. Even kind. He hadn’t been anything like he had been for years before hand. Draco knew, deep down that Potter was probably faking, trying to lull Draco into a false sense of safety in order to discover and exploit his secrets.

 

He knew it.

 

Really, he did.

 

But…

 

But, if Draco was being completely and utterly Hufflepuffian with himself, he might confess that Potter being kind to him, even with an ulterior motive, was a more pleasant option than the road he was currently on. Even if Potter ultimately betrayed him and revealed all his secrets, it wouldn’t be as bad as what he might encounter with the Dark Lord. Despite what Draco had always believed about Potter, he knew he wasn’t evil or sadistic. Something he could never claim about his ‘master’ (though he shuddered at the thought of the word). Even worst case scenario Potter was better than best case scenario Dark Lord.

 

How completely tragic had his life become in the last year?

 

If it was just his life on the line he might have taken the chance immediately. He might have thrown caution to the wind, told Potter everything and taken a bet on the Golden Boy’s altruism, he might have said ‘fuck it’ and stopped gelling his hair and dressing like a prat, he might have snogged whoever took his fancy and not worried a fig about word getting back to his parents, he might have joined the fucking Order of the Phoenix and actually done something productive in this war. There were a lot of things he might have done. But it wasn’t just his life on the line. He might have taken any number of dangerous risks if he was the only one who would have faced the consequences, but he couldn’t ask his mother to face them for his own selfishness.

 

There was no question that Narcissa Malfoy would abandon everything the Dark Lord stood for if Draco told her he wanted to get out. She wouldn’t even hesitate. If Draco told her he worried about his father’s ability to protect them the way he had always promised, Narcissa would file for divorce without blinking, willingly breaking her own heart. Narcissa Malfoy was the kind of woman who had only ever dreamed of being a mother, she was absolutely and completely devoted to Draco and Draco could not take advantage of that. Because if Draco had doubts about his father’s ability to protect them, then it was up to him to pick up the slack. If he worried about the consequences of following the Dark Lord, he had to be extra vigilant to ensure that those consequences never landed on his mother. He knew she never wanted any of it. Narcissa obediently married Lucius Malfoy when his engagement to her older sister Andromeda had fallen through, though she had been lucky to find a kindred spirit in Lucius, she was prepared to face a loveless marriage if that had been asked of her. She had only ever wanted to do the best by her family, and her son was the same.

 

Morosely Draco reflected on his situation. He couldn’t see that things would ever get any better for himself or his family, that they would ever find a way out. Either they would die during the war, by Voldemort’s hand or while fighting to defend him, or they would live to see the end of the war. Seeing the end brought a whole new range of problems, The Dark Lord would win, or he would lose, the Malfoys would live the rest of their lives as slaves of a madman or in Azkaban.

 

The thought made his eyes burn and heart constrict painfully. He thought of his father, already wasting away from the prison’s harsh conditions and struggled to picture his petite, elegant mother in the same position, she wouldn’t last a month. He thought of himself, and how his life was starting to feel forfeit because his grandfather had been a poor judge of character. He thought of his friends, all of whom would be forced into his position if he failed. It really was hopeless. There was no way out.

 

The revelation made Draco’s heart feel heavy, but his shoulders lighter. It literally didn’t matter at all what he did from here. No matter what he did, he was going to die. His whole family were going to die. There was nothing he could do.

 

Throwing caution to the wind and being reckless for the first time in his short life Draco tore off a piece of his parchment and scribbled a quick note.

 

_Meet me in the C &G Room_

_After dinner_

_\- D_


	6. Chapter 6

Harry smiled widely as the elegantly written cursive note arrived to him later in the day. He was so pleased that he decided to ignore the sight of his smile Ron and Hermione sharing a significant look over his shoulder. 

He wasn’t doing anything to dispel their belief that he was meeting some girl for secret snogging sessions in broom closets of an evening. For once though, he didn’t particularly care that Ron and Hermione had it wrong. The two were far less subtle than they thought they were and frankly, as far as Harry was concerned, they were probably better off thinking what they wanted, even if it was completely untrue. 

Maybe things would have been easier if he was just meeting up with some girl, though if he had really wanted to get some girl’s attention he could have just gone along with Ginny the night before. Harry wasn’t sure what it was about Malfoy that kept his attention so much more firmly than girls or Quiddich, or just about anything really. He wanted to know though. He wanted to know why the blond captured his interest so completely, he wanted to know why he was so curious about him, so eager to learn more about him, so excited at the prospect of spending time with him and so delighted at the more amicable turn their relationship had taken. It was a mystery Harry was very eager to figure out. 

In anticipation of spending the evening with Malfoy again Harry’s day slugged past. Somehow classes felt longer, conversations more boring and Harry just watched the hands on clocks slowly inch along. He was nearly going mental by the end of the day, tempted to send Malfoy a reply asking him to meet earlier. Of course, it made sense, Harry wanted to know what Malfoy was up to… so of course he wanted to see him. Thats what it was about. Malfoy was a mystery and Harry was drawn to mysteries. It was only logical. 

Which was why after pretending not to be hungry Harry raced up the stairs and through the familiar rabbit warren of corridors to the Room of Requirement at the end of the day. 

Harry smirked knowingly seeing Malfoy already there waiting for him. 

“By the way Malfoy, you spelled RoR wrong on your note,” Harry told him by way of greeting.

“Why would I call it an R.O.R?”

“The Room of Requirement. Obviously.”

“Except that its called the Come and Go Room, obviously” Malfoy mocked, rolling his eyes at Potter’s ridiculousness. 

Harry laughed, amused by Malfoy’s instinct towards prickliness, a trait he would have only a few days ago described as ‘prickishness’ instead. It really was a wonder how fast some of these things could change.

Strolling into the Room of Requirement Harry returned to where the two had seated the night before. He watched as Malfoy awkwardly followed behind and attempted to copy Harry’s nonchalance. Harry watched closely, realising with a touch of shock that he could tell Malfoy was uncomfortable. Whenever he felt in control, confident and casual, Malfoy carried himself like royalty, his posture was impeccable, his walk leaned more towards a swagger and he held himself with a kind of aristocratic poise that always started Harry’s blood boiling. Awkward shuffling Malfoy was not something he had seen before, a Malfoy who didn’t know where he stood in the situation, it was fascinating to witness the change. 

“So…,” Harry began, “are we going to entertain another kind of hypothetical today?”

Draco snorted a laugh “I thought we passed hypotheticals last time?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “but I don’t know what you wanted to chat about this time… I sort of had a plan last time, I wanted to know what you were up to- which you didn’t actually tell me by the way- but this time you arranged this and I guess I’m at a bit of a loss.”

“To be fair, just because you wanted me to tell you everything doesn’t mean I was going to.” 

“Yeah I know, I just hoped I might be able to figure some of it out… and I guess I should thank you for being as cooperative as you were.”

“Oh… You’re welcome I guess Potter…” Draco mumbled, dropping his eye contact, “why do you even care though?”

Harry’s eyebrows rose, “well… you’re more pleasant to be around when you’re being cooperative, you’re a bit less of a prat,” he explained.

Draco rolled his eyes “no, not why do you care about my cooperation, why do you care about what I’m doing. Surely you have other things to worry about?”

“Yeah… I do” Harry admitted, “but sometimes worrying about all that other stuff gets overhelming. Its too much, you know? And I guess trying to figure out what some ferrety git is doing feels like I’m being productive and like I’m doing what I need to do, without requiring me to actually do all the crap that makes my head feel like its going to explode.”

Draco nodded, “now whose being cooperative?”

Harry laughed. “Maybe I am. I don’t know, I guess I figure if I expect answers from you then I should be willing to give them myself. Its only fair.”

Draco hadn’t expected the night to go anything like this. He was half prepared for Potter to tell him where he could shove it when he had sent the note. He expected a fight, a confrontation, some nasty words thrown back and forth, anything along those lines. He hadn’t been expecting to essentially be offered to have all his Potter questions answered. To finally get to see who stood behind the iconic glasses. There was a lot being put on the table at the moment. Despite the fact that courage usually evaded the blond he took a deep breath and decided tonight might just be a night for miracles. 

“Potter?” He asked, his voice wavering slightly.

Catching his tone Harry immediately paid close attention, Malfoy was watching his hands as his fingers twisted restlessly together. He took another deep breath, his chest stretching against his shirt, his eyes falling closed as he willed himself to continue.

“I would like, perhaps, if you’re willing… I would like… Well, see I just think…”

“Malfoy?” Harry interrupted, “don’t worry about saying it the right way, just spit it out.”

Draco blinked, he had never been offered to do that before, to just blurt out what he wanted to say though it didn’t surprise him at all that it might be Potter’s approach “I would like to propose a truce.” He said in response. 

Harry’s face split into a wide grin, “yeah, okay. A truce it is.” He agreed. 

Draco nodded as well. His relief was plain as day across his face, though his happiness was less evident than Harry’s. Draco only allowed the corner of his lips the slightest upturn, but Harry noticed.

“You know, it says a lot about where my life is at right now that your truce is probably going to be the highlight of my week.” Harry was trying to put Malfoy at ease, to maybe even stretch that little quirk of his lips into a full blown smile. Instead, the statement sounded, even to Harry’s ears, more cynical than funny. 

Malfoy regarded him curiously “Potter… Is everything okay?” He asked, before immediately backtracking - “I mean, of course you have a lot of crap going on and in general things are very much not ‘okay’ but … Actually, no, forget I said anything at all. So, best part of your week then? I must really be a bright spot in your otherwise miserable life. Which of course is only funny if your life isn’t miserable actually… but I suppose with the Prophet being how it is, people being how they are and all the rest it might me… But we decided not to-“

“Malfoy!” Harry interrupted.

Draco’s jaw audibly snapped closed, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Its okay” Harry reassured him “I meant it as a joke but yeah, I guess things are pretty miserable at the moment.”

“I know the feeling” Draco muttered, still blushing.

“I appreciate you asking actually… I know you wanted the truce and I’m sure this is just part of that, you just being polite and that, but no one ever asks me that.” Harry told him. 

“No one asks if you’re okay? Or no one goes on a rambling mess in front of you and makes an arse of themselves?”

“The first one definitely, I make a rambling arse of myself often enough that I don’t even notice anymore when someone else does it.”

“I’m surprised you don’t have Weasley and Granger constantly asking how you’re doing.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words “I think Hermione wants to… But really I don’t think they actually want to know. I think they know if they ask how I am, it won’t be good and they won’t really be able to do anything about it. So its easier for everyone to pretend I’m holding it together.” He confessed.

“But you don’t feel that you are holding it together?”

“No” Harry confirmed, his voice dropping to a whisper. It was the first time he had ever made such a confession out loud before. It felt realer all of a sudden, like maybe he too had been avoiding the reality of the fact that he wan’t coping. The weight of his responsibility, of the prophecy, school, Voldemort and everything his life was building towards felt like it was hitting him for the first time all at once. His posture collapsed down as he dropped his head into his trembling hands. 

Of course he wasn’t okay, how was this the first time he had addressed it? How could he possibly be okay? He was sixteen years old and tasked with defeating the most evil wizard to have ever lived. Tom Riddle had almost sixty years experience on Harry, he had a band of almost-as-evil followers ready to kill at his command, not to mention seven hidden bloody pieces of soul- Harry didn’t even have his NEWTs! Less than seven years ago Harry had been living in a fucking cupboard and attending muggle primary school. His life had changed so dramatically, and so quickly that he barely had time to process anything before there was a new disaster. Every year the pressure on him mounted, at some point he just wouldn’t be able to do it anymore. 

Maybe he had already reached that point. Maybe he reached it months ago. 

But of course, he realised with a sigh of resentment, he could afford to reach a breaking point. He just didn’t have the luxury to not be able to handle something. If he couldn’t kill Voldemort, then no one else could take up the job. It wasn’t like the Aurors could do it- the people whose job it should be to do that kind of thing. Fucking prophecy! 

As his mind spiralled and raged about the overwhelming stress and unfairness of his situation, he didn’t notice Malfoy get off his seat and move in front of Harry. He moved slowly and very deliberately. Kneeling gently in front of his new frie— truce partner (is that a thing?) Draco took Potter’s hands slowly into his own. 

“Harry” Draco whispered, softly getting the other boy’s attention. 

Potter’s green eyes were blown wide and seemed slightly out of focus, his hair seemed even more out of control than usual and his breathing was coming in erratically. He watched Draco with such an earnest, pleading expression that Draco knew immediately how vulnerable Potter felt. He remembered his own break down in front of Potter and sympathised completely with the fear of being ridiculed and how painful it was to feel so exposed yet so unable to pull yourself back together. 

“Just breathe” Draco murmured. Harry attempted a few shakey deep breaths but struggled to calm down entirely.

“Alright Harry just follow me okay?” He instructed, still using a slow and calm voice. He took his own deep breath, exaggerating the expansion of his chest so Potter would more easily follow along. 

For several minutes they sat, hand in hand, breathing deeply, watching each other’s expression. Harry was shocked at the care and tenderness Draco was showing him and vaguely registered that no one had ever taken the time to sit with him and allow his emotions to run their course. People always told him to calm down, to perk up or to feel better, but no one had ever sat with him while he tried to process the change, he had always been left to deal with his emotions alone. It felt nice to have support through it instead, Harry decided, almost as nice as hearing Draco Malfoy use his first name. 

Draco watched Harry closely for signs that he was calming down, keeping steady eye contact for as long as Harry wanted to hold it. He himself never appreciated being directly in someone else’s view when he was feeling vulnerable, but Potter seemed to relish in the comfort of company. So he stayed, watching those bright green eyes slowly regain their spark as he rubbed gentle circled on the backs of his ‘truce partner’’s hands. He kept his breathing steady and exaggerated despite the fact that he was sure Potter didn’t need to follow him anymore. 

“How are you?” He asked after a few more moments.

“Yeah” Harry whispered, “I feel a bit better. Thanks. I don’t know what came over me there, I think it just all hit me at once and its just all —“

“You’re overwhelmed” Draco finished, Harry nodded. “Potter, I don’t know entirely what you’ve got going on, but I’m going to assume a bit of overwhelm is pretty natural. Its okay.”

Harry smiled weakly “Thanks Draco.”

Draco blinked at the use of his first name, completely unaccustomed to hearing it from Potter, it felt good though, even to some of the people he considered his best friends he was still ‘Malfoy’, he was always ‘Malfoy’. For years in fact, he had forced himself to be more Malfoy than Draco. Hearing his name be used, and in such a gentle tone of voice, made Draco almost regretful of his inability to allow himself to be ‘Draco’ in public. 

“I don’t want to pry or anything, so you don’t have to answer, but you seem to have a lot of experience with people freaking out on you..” Harry said, hoping he wouldn’t offend. 

Once again Draco blushed, the colour in his cheeks softened his otherwise harsh and angular looking face, it took years off his overly mature facade. Harry liked it. 

“I don’t have experience with other people ‘freaking out’, but… well truthfully I have plenty of experience with my own freak outs, eventually you learn what helps.”

“You get them too?”

“Yes, they’re called panic attacks, I think you might have had a small one just now. They can be really frightening but they aren’t dangerous… just… unpleasant. I’ve been getting them all year.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry… is it because of all the stuff you’ve got going on?”

“You could say that I guess.” Draco agreed. “Its definitely gotten worse since my father has gone to prison and everything at home has fallen apart, but really I’ve always been an anxious person…” As much as he hoped Potter wasn’t the kind to judge, Draco’s heart rate sped up at the confession. He had learned from a very early age to hide his weakness beneath the Malfoy mask and to force his emotions deep below the surface. It was only ever in the strictest of privacy that Draco allowed himself to be weak. Until recently.

“I had no idea.” Harry told him, trying to imagine a time when this side of Draco had reared its head. All of his memories of the blond from the last few years involved him being determinedly unpleasant and more often than not, downright nasty. It was shocking to hear such a confession from him. 

“I know you had no idea. Thats the point. I can’t be that way when anyone else might find out. Even my closest friends have no idea. I have to be the Malfoy everyone expects me to be, and a big part of that involves being cold, emotionless, even cruel but never ever weak. Sometimes I was nastier than I needed to be because otherwise I might fall into a stammer, or start blushing, or do any number of humiliating things to reveal my weakness. So I have to be a sort of character of myself, so things can’t affect me. It doesn’t always work, but its really the best I can do.” Draco admitted. 

He took a moment to be gobsmacked with himself. When he had decided to say ‘fuck it’ earlier in the day, he had no idea he would take that to such an extreme. He had expected to call a truce, have a small chat and leave on friendly terms, not to spill his heart out to the Boy Who Lived … he hadn’t even planned on revealing he HAD a heart, yet alone flaunting its contents. Saying ‘fuck it’ really was dangerous for him, apparently he didn’t do that half way. 

Harry was almost as surprised as Draco by the revelation. He listened and tried to reconcile what Draco was saying with the years worth of memories he had of the other boy. Draco’s comment of being a character seemed amazingly on point given the distinct lack of similarity between the boy in front of him and his rival for six years. 

“You don’t need to call it a weakness you know” Harry told him. “I get the feeling that with everything you’ve got going on, its quite rational for you to not be able to handle it.”

“There’s something I wasn’t expecting us to find in common” Draco responded, a small smile breaking out across his face. 

Not being able to handle the terror and uncertainty that comes with life in a world on the brink of war was a pretty depressing thing to have in common, but somehow just knowing that someone else was feeling it too made the burden slightly less stifling. The two boys sat in silence for a long while after Draco’s comment, just basking in the comfort of the company of someone who truly and openly understood how they were feeling. So they sat, silently enjoying not having to pretend to have it all together for a little while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had some really lovely comments coming through on this story and I just want to let those of you who commented that I have really appreciated it <3


	7. Chapter 7

The boys met at their regular meeting spot outside the room of requirement again later in the week. Harry was tired, and as was not unusual for him he was restless. He had had a long day and in a somewhat typical Harry fashion, his mental exhaustion made way to angst.

Draco was happy to see him, welcoming the respite from his gruelling work on the ‘fucking stupid bloody cabinet from hell’, as he had taken to affectionately calling it. 

Draco’s days had grown longer than they had ever been before, he struggled to maintain the high level of academic standing that he had kept secure since childhood as his focus waned. He was up late into the night working on the cabinet, trying desperately to fix it to keep his family safe, while simultaneously praying with all his heart that he failed to complete his mission. He returned to his dorms early in the morning, scraped together a few hours of rest before getting up and heading to breakfast. Breakfast was coffee, lot of it. Almost an unreasonable amount of coffee really. And nothing else. Draco Malfoy entirely ran on coffee. Classes passed in a daze as he attempted (unsuccessfully) to force himself to concentrate. Lunch was always quick, grabbing whatever he could easily take with him to eat on his way back to his dorm where he would try have a quick nap before the second half of the day. The second half was no easier than the first. He went through the motions of going to classes and participating in lessons, then after class he made a feeble attempt at doing his homework before grabbing dinner and going back to the Come and Go Room again. Seeing Harry every few days had really become the highlight of his days. Not something he ever expected to think.

So as Draco greeted his friend and began to prattle on about his day, he was immediately frustrated by Harry’s less than adequate responses.

“Anyway” Draco tried, “And thats when the Dark Lord told me he wants me to have his baby.” 

“Oh yeah, fantastic” Harry grumbled in reply.

Not seeing Draco halt in his tracks, Harry walked straight into the angry blond.

“Do you not want to be here?” He snapped.

“What? Sure I do” Harry told him, confused.

“You aren’t listening to a word I’ve been saying!” He complained. Draco didn’t deal well with being ignored, he never had. As a child he had adored being the centre of attention, and while Narcissa had assured her husband that it was a phase he would grow out of, unfortunately it had developed into a core pinnacle of Draco’s personality. 

Harry’s instinct was to deny the allegation, to snap back that Draco was being unreasonable and stupid, but he stopped himself. Draco actually looked genuinely hurt. 

Upon learning more about Draco’s life and situation, Harry had become sympathetic to some of the other boy’s plight. He knew Draco had an awkward and overly formal relationship with the majority of his friends, he knew that he had very few people in his life he could genuinely be honest with and he knew, despite it never being said aloud, that Draco was very likely quite a lonely person. Harry didn’t want to make that any worse, or contribute to that feeling at all… He just really wasn’t up for a whole night of chatting and staying positive. He was frustrated and cross but he didn’t want to hurt his friend.

Harry pushed his hair backwards as he tried to work out what to say.

“I’m sorry.” He started, “I didn’t mean to not listen I’m just feeling really restless tonight… Everything is just getting a little much and I don’t think I feel up for being really sociable tonight.”

Draco looked Harry up and down, he had never had anything close to passable posture, but today he stood even more tensely than usual, his shoulders hunched and hands wringing together. He knew the feeling well, of being too tense to want to be around anyone and wishing he could lock himself in his room and just indulge in his own miserable-ness. It was never helpful. 

What was helpful was flying. Racing away from whatever was bothering him and allowing his stresses and anxieties to melt away into the air behind him. He knew from observation that Harry felt the same way about flying as he did, no one flew with such evident passion who didn’t see flying as a way of life. It really was the perfect solution.

“Right, okay. If thats the case then come along Potter” Draco decided, walking off in the opposite direction.

Startled, Harry took a moment before following suit.

“Where are we going?” 

“Flying” Draco told him, fighting to suppress a smirk at his own brilliance. 

Harry jogged to catch up, suddenly bursting with energy. Why hadn’t he thought of flying? He loved to fly, and Quiddich practice so rarely allowed him to face off with another seeker.

The two made their way down to the pitches and found their brooms. Draco took out the training snitch and released it into the sky. As they watched the small golden ball take off the pair counted down, giving it plenty of time to get away before mounting their brooms and following in pursuit. 

It wasn’t long before their ‘fun evening spent flying’ turned competitive. Both boys were talented seekers and neither were prepared to face defeat at the hands of the other. Within only a few short minutes, they were soaring through the air to the best of their skill. 

Draco flew the way he did everything in life, with artful precision, discipline, and an air of untroubled elegance that no one else was quite able to emulate. He flaunted his skill, moving and seeking with the speed, power and confidence of a seasoned player, but his expression remained almost bored. As if hurling through the air at speeds so great it caused his face to grow numb with the sting of the chilly night time air was no bother at all. Undeniably, Draco was beautiful when he took to the sky, looking for all the world like he belonged there. 

He flew in the opposite way to Harry. Harry was all power. Every movement, every change in direction and turn through the air was a demonstration of force. There were few people in the wizarding world who would dare deny that Harry Potter was a powerful wizard, and even fewer could do so after they had seen him fly. The broomstick between his thighs was entirely under his command, his grip was strong and his face was set in an expression of steely determination, as if nothing else mattered but himself, his opponent and the golden snitch.

Despite their radically different styles it was difficult to pick who was the better flyer. They flew as opposing extremes, both were extremely talented, technically proficient and confident enough to achieve great speeds and maintain perfect balance and yet, they flew nothing alike. They took the Quiddich training manuals which insisted on ‘this particular grip style’ for maximum broom obedience, or ‘this seating position specifically’ for reaching higher speeds and in a single lap around the pitch dismissed them all.

Quiddich, like any kind of magic, responded to the individual flyer or caster. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy flew differently because they saw magic in vastly different ways. Draco had always seen magic as his right as a pureblood wizard, magic obeyed him because it was his to do with as he pleased. His lifetime of exposure to magic, as well as his repeated training in pureblood ideology had given him a deep rooted sense of the inevitability of his magic. As long as he was a strong enough wizard, magic would come naturally to him- and being raised in the Malfoy family, by Lucius, Narcissa and an endless collection of ancestral portraits meant that Draco couldn’t possibly have turned out as anything but a strong wizard. Draco had never felt separate to magic, it flowed through him, through the world around him and through everything he came into contact with. Magic was everything. To wield magic, Draco needed only to reconsider the balance between himself and the world around him. The two were in harmony. When he flew, he had complete faith in his broom, in his own ability to keep it under command and he felt his magic pump through his veins and whip through the air against his face and through his hair, there was no barrier between himself and the air around him.

For Harry Potter however, magic was something else entirely. Magic was physical. Exposure to magic had drastically changed Harry’s life forever and he had ever since been in awe of what magic could do. But he had also been exposed to the darker side of magic. It had the potential to do wonderful, unbelievable things, but it also had the potential to kill, to hurt and to destroy. For Harry, magic was a force to be controlled, it was moved and manipulated to alter the physical reality before him, magic was a skill or a muscle which could be changed and improved with training and intent. In that way, every spell cast for Harry was a muscle flexed, every twist of his broom handle was his reaction against the natural state of his feet being planted on the ground. Harry owned the broom when he rode it, he controlled and conquered the very air he flew through. When he landed he was often sweaty, panting and his muscles ached with the deep physicality of his own flying.

The two flew at breakneck speeds, clinging to their brooms as they tore through the night sky. The little golden ball teasing in and out of their line of sight. From the moment Harry first laid eyes on a snitch he loved the way the little ball had its own personality, flirting with capture and making its own fun out of the seekers on its tail. As Harry ripped his way through the air a gleeful laugh tore its way out of his lungs, he couldn’t suppress it even if he wanted to. Flying burned adrenalin through his veins and he couldn’t help the joy that it inspired in him. Flying was one of the few activities in Harry’s life that had always been a source of pure happiness. Flying alongside a new friend, a friend he was bizarrely excited to have acquired brought a fundamentally unsurpassable surge of happiness. He was just happy to be flying alongside a new friend, chasing the ever elusive snitch. It wasn’t to say that he didn’t care who won, he was determined to prove to Malfoy that he was the superior player, and he was excited by the knowledge that Draco would never consider going easy on him. 

Despite their newfound friendship the boys were both deeply competitive people, and with the opportunity to compete one on one, the drive to prove their skill flared more than ever before. Even in a regular Quiddich match it wasn’t always easy to tell the better seeker from another, other team mates and the rest of the game’s scoring made it too hard to compare the two players. One on one though, they had no excuse. 

Draco maintained a steady lead in front of Harry, as Harry’s poor eyesight worsened in the dark he was happy to stay back a bit to follow Draco’s bright blond hair. He was prepared though, for the moment when he would surge ahead. Unfortunately for Harry, Draco was not going to make the mistake of underestimating his opponent. He had too many times in the past made the mistake of assuming that a victory over Harry Potter was inevitable only to have it stolen away at the last moment. Despite his nonchalant appearance Draco was holding onto a razor sharp focus on the challenge ahead. 

Draco’s hand extended out in front of him, his long fingers only a hair’s breadth away from the furiously beating wings of the golden snitch. Harry was not far behind, pushing his broom faster and faster until it was vibrating under the strain. Also reaching out, hoping to catch the snitch before Draco Harry stretched as far as he could, still ripping through the air as fast as his broom was physically capable of carrying him. Using his legs, he lifted off the broom, hoping to stretch further. Draco was beside him, all illusions of disinterest gone as his jaw clenched tightly together. Harry was half way off his broom, arm extended out, aggressively vibrating broomstick being held by one hand, inching, inching, until suddenly…

He was falling.

Fortunately their chase had led them closer to the ground and Harry didn’t fall far, but he was still shocked to find himself hitting the ground, his breath knocked out of him with the force of the fall. He wasn’t injured but he groaned in disappointment before trying to stand back up. 

Draco was smiling so brightly his face might nearly have split in half with his happiness. Seeing such a pure and unrestrained expression of joy on his former nemesis’ face suddenly made Harry less bothered about losing. He smiled as widely as Draco did, adrenalin still pumping wildly through his veins, his enthusiasm strong despite his failure to capture the snitch. 

“Thank you so much for this Draco, I had no idea how badly I needed it!” Harry enthused. Harry loved flying, he had done since the first moment he sat on a broomstick (which coincidentally was also with Draco), yet somehow when his mood was at its worst he always forgot all about it and its wonderful mood elevating qualities. 

Draco’s stomach fluttered madly with excitement, he couldn't help but feel heady with the mix of adrenalin and pride at being able to help turn Harry's mood around so significantly. Without thinking he pulled Harry into a warm hug, their bodies pressing flush against one another. 

Harry was generally uncomfortable with people touching him. After a childhood in which physical affection was entirely withheld, he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. Hermione was a hugger, but few of his other friends were, it wasn’t something Harry had ever needed to get used to. On instinct he froze at the contact, but his discomfort didn’t last as long as it usually did. Within a few moments he was melting against Draco’s slightly larger frame. 

Hugging Draco was a different experience to hugging Hermione. For one thing, Hermione was shorter than Harry and Draco was not. Harry was only a fraction shorter than the blond, but with Draco's arms pulling him against him, the height difference was exaggerated. He felt, strangely safe with the solid build of his friend against him, it was relaxing, exciting and strangely embarrassing- but he supposed he could understand why Hermione enjoyed it. It was very pleasant. 

Feeling Harry relax against him released a swarm of butterflies inside Draco’s stomach and his face burned a brilliant shade of crimson as he separated from the other boy. Despite his embarrassment Draco couldn’t help but revel in the happiness that no longer had anything to do with his miniature Quiddich victory. He so rarely found himself in a position where he could honestly say that all he felt was happiness, but somehow, for a brief moment, he was so full up on how happy he was that there was simply no room for anything else. For a brief moment his body could not hold onto the anxiety that had become a permanent fixture in his life, it simply had to take its leave or Draco might have burst. 

Awkwardly the boys parted ways, returning to their dorms both in an uncharacteristically good mood. Harry returned to the Gryffindor common room smiling brightly, for once ignoring the curious looks directed his way and allowed himself to drift off into a wonderfully joyfull sleep where he wasn’t plagued with nightmares or visions, but instead relive the joy of flying through the air with his favourite blond. 

Draco returned to his dorm quietly, determined that he would not be disturbed by anyone who might spoil his good mood. He curled up in his bed unwilling to allow sleep to claim him, wanting to revel for just a short while in the feeling of complete happiness. He lay comfortable under his blankets enjoying the sense of relaxation that washed over him, and eventually passed into unconsciousness without even noticing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Happy upload day everyone, and thank you again so much to the people who have been leaving Kudos and comments, you are fantastic and wonderful and I love you very much.  
> This chapter is a bit of a filler, I just really wanted to try my hand at writing flying and I think once again I'm exploring these boys from a different angle to what we are used to seeing them as. I hope you enjoyed :)


	8. Chapter 8

Severus Snape could easily be compared to an overlarge bat.

 

And he often was.

 

The way he was sweeping through the halls of the castle, resolutely making his way to the headmasters office with his dark cloak billowing out behind him, did nothing to lessen the comparison.

 

He had never cared about his bat-like appearance and on this particular evening his menacing coat swishing was the furthest thing on his mind. Severus Snape was angry. Though he almost always gave the impression of being bad tempered and cross, it wasn’t until one saw Severus in a truly angry state that one was able to appreciate the differences between a bored or disinterested Severus and a genuinely angry one.

 

He paid little attention to students who scurried out of his way in a desperate attempt to stay out of his warpath as he made his way to the headmasters office.

 

Meeting with the headmaster was always a frustrating experience for Severus. Albus Dumbledore had a nasty habit of talking over him, making him feel like a schoolboy and dismissing his fears and concerns with such an infuriatingly pleasant smile on his face that Severus wanted nothing more than to throttle him. But tonight was different. He was going to plead on his godson’s behalf, he couldn’t afford to lose his temper, nor be swayed by Albus’s obnoxiously jaunty demeanour.

 

Knocking once on the thick wooden door of the headmaster’s office, Severus waited patiently until he heard the Headmaster’s call to ‘enter’.

 

“Severus my boy! To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this morning?” Albus asked, his blue eyes shining brightly. It was impossible to tell if he was genuine in his surprise at Severus’ intrusion into his office, Albus had a frustrating habit of holding on to a lot more information than he willingly shared, in all likelyhood he had been patiently waiting until his former pupil worked up the nerve to confront him.

 

“Headmaster,” Severus began respectfully, “I am here to discuss the situation with Draco Malfoy.”

 

“Ah yes, young Mr. Malfoy, I find he’s made himself quite a popular subject for discussion lately hasn’t he? What in particular about his situation would you like to discuss?”

 

“I am concerned about the progress he is having with his mission, specifically that he doesn’t seem to be making any. Draco continues to exhaust himself, but I feel that something is stealing the boy’s attention, I know we agreed that Draco wouldn’t be made to carry out his mission in its entirety but I am concerned at his lack of interest in it.”

 

“Are you worried about Draco’s allegiance?”

 

Severus shook his head, “Draco isn’t the dedicated Death Eater he pretends to be. He never has been. I believe that he thinks he hides it well, and I suppose he does, in a common room full of other children who also do not want to be Death Eaters. But obviously his position isn’t the same as the other students. He cannot afford for that mask to slip, and I fear it is at risk of doing so.”

 

“Speak plainly Severus. What would you like my help with?”

 

“I’m worried about him. He knows he needs to hold up the impression that he is a devoted Death Eater, his safety and the safety of his family depends on him maintaining that image.”

 

“Is it not a good thing that he isn’t so consumed by the difficulties of his situation? Surely he deserves some chance to have a life beyond his mask?”

 

Severus shook his head “he needs to be more concerned about his safety! He cannot afford for the Dark Lord to know he does not have his allegiance, his life is in danger, he cannot have a life beyond his mask if he has no life at all!”

 

“What if he is able to secure his safety elsewhere? Perhaps, if Draco is leaning away from the Death Eaters we can provide him safety elsewhere, and encourage his leanings to the light.”

 

“How would that happen?”

 

“I believe Draco may be forging a friendship with Harry, Harry came to speak to me with similar concerns about Mr. Malfoy recently.”

 

“The Potter boy came to you with concerns about Draco?” Severus asked, his dark eyebrows raised in surprise.

 

“Yes, I confess I too was surprised by the development, but Harry came to speak to me about providing sanctuary for Draco. He is very concerned about his safety and was hoping for Order protection for him.”

 

He shook his head, unable to reconcile the fact that the child he had spent so much of his life hating had acted sooner than he had to protect his godson. It didn’t make sense. “Be that as it may Headmaster, but the Order of the Phoenix would never provide sanctuary to the Malfoys, not even if Potter demanded it.”

 

Albus nodded sagely, “no, I cannot see that it would be a popular idea, certainly Lucius and Narcissa would not be welcomed, but there may be a chance for young Draco.”

 

“No, there wouldn’t be, they will hear his name and see Slytherin green and instantly refuse him anything.” It hurt Severus’ bitter heart to acknowledge the reality of his students’ situation. Most of them were deemed guilty by association for crimes they knew nothing about, for the actions of people they had never met, and there was nothing he could do for them.

 

“Draco is a child… They may take pity on him” he reasoned.

 

“He’s a Malfoy” Severus snapped in reply, “that’s all they will see.”

 

“If he is a friend of Harry people will want to help him.”

 

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, “we may have to agree to disagree on this Albus. The point however, remains, Draco may be in danger.”

 

Dumbledore sighed as Severus turned and left the office, Draco Malfoy was an issue he had not foreseen. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help the boy, but he worried about the effect he would have on Harry, Draco was a clever boy and was certainly a good student, however, he could not be said to be particularly noble or ethical. Harry had a destiny to fulfil and a friendship with someone like Malfoy might be detrimental to its accomplishment. But he couldn’t withhold assistance to Draco, it would lose him the loyalty of Severus if he thought he had denied aid to his beloved godson. There were so few people that Severus truly cared about, Albus himself was not one of them, Draco was. From the moment Draco was born and Lucius and Narcissa had asked him to be godfather Severus had been devoted to the boy. He had never expected to have children of his own, and Draco was as good as. If Albus wanted to keep Severus around, helping Draco was not negotiable. But he also had Harry’s best interests to think about. He clearly had his work cut out for himself.

 

Hastily he scrawled a note: ‘ _Harry, please meet me in my office after dinner on Friday night_.’

 

 

***

 

 

Draco Malfoy loved potions, he had done since he was a very small child. He had always had a very meticulous and measured, the precise and subtle art of potion making had always come very naturally to him. Potions had been his favourite class in school until this year. Out of nowhere it seemed Harry had been blessed with the potions ability that had evaded him for the previous five years. It didn’t make sense. Harry was absolutely abysmal at potions, everyone knew it, Draco especially, yet somehow he was suddenly top of the class. Draco couldn’t even blame it on favouritism since he could clearly see that Harry was suddenly making perfect potions. But he tried to suppress his bitterness, it would do no favours to his newfound friendship.

 

Nevertheless Draco sat in his usual seat, isolated from the rest of the class, pondering Harry Potter’s newfound success in potions. Maybe if he and Harry became close enough friends, he could eventually ask where the previously non existent talent had sprung from.

 

Class poured in and Draco allowed the chatter of his classmates to wash over him as he sat, trying to remain unobtrusive. He kept his head down and didn’t even notice Harry walk in.

 

Harry frowned when he noticed that Ron and Hermione were seated together, as were Dean and Seamus, and that there didn’t seem to be any available seats on the ‘Gryffindor side’ of the classroom. He scanned the classroom, preparing for a terrible lesson (as Harry is prone to a spot of the dramatics) but his spirits lifted when he noticed an empty seat beside Draco.

 

Draco was off in his own little world, or so it looked. He was barely conscious most of the time these days, but fortunately it often gave him the impression of being lost in thought rather than half asleep. Harry took a seat beside him, startling the blond.

 

When he notice Harry taking the seat beside him Draco wanted to groan. It wasn’t that he wasn’t pleased to see Harry, or didn’t want to spend time with him, it was just that- Harry had the subtlety of a hippogryff. His thought was proved right when Harry turned to him with a smile and said “hey Draco how are you?”

 

Draco nodded stiffly, “Potter”.

 

He noticed Harry’s face fall a fraction and wanted to reach over and smack him. How could he be so oblivious? What on Earth was Harry expecting? That Draco would launch up off his seat and give him a hug in front of the whole class? Did he honestly have no concept of how dangerous their friendship was?

But of course Draco didn’t regret it. He hated himself for it, but his friendship with Harry was the only bright spot in his life at the moment, he would be damned to give it up. But that didn’t mean he could be public about it.

 

He took a moment to indulge about what that might be like. Harry was as warm and glowing as Draco had always imagined a Chosen One might be, and getting to be in his presence genuinely made Draco feel better about the state of his life. He envied Harry’s friends, his real friends, for getting to spend time with him without question. To see him laugh, to maybe even be the one to make him laugh, to get to tease, joke and have fun but also to be there when things took a turn. So far Draco got to see some of Harry’s darkness, and had shared a piece of his as well, but he dreamed of a day when maybe the two might share their light as well. Though Draco wasn’t even entirely sure he had any light left at this stage. Maybe one day Harry Potter taking a seat next to Draco Malfoy wouldn’t be a strange thing, but for now it was, and Draco needed to remind him of that.

 

Straightening his back Draco resolves not to engage with Harry during class. He couldn’t afford to.

 

Fortunately it wasn’t long before he was saved by the Slug.

 

Draco wasn’t a fan of Professor Slughorn, he never would be. He found the man’s jaunty demeanour irritating and an insult to the noble art of potion making. He knew Slughorn was competent, sure, but he had become a potioneer to try and get rich quick. He had become a teacher to network. He was entirely the kind of person that Draco had been taught to look down on.

 

And above all else, he hadn’t invited Draco to the Slug Club. Of course, Draco told himself that he didn’t want to be a part of Sluggy’s club, he didn’t give a fig what a has been potioneer thought of him. But he couldn’t help but feel the sting. Not because he felt slighted as a Malfoy, though of course, Slughorn had surprised him by not being impressed by Draco’s pedigree. But because he hadn’t acknowledged Draco’s position as the highest scoring potions student in the year. He beat out Hermione Granger.

 

But of course, a top ranking Pure Blood was less impressive than a coming second Muggle Born.

 

Draco pretended to listen as the old Slug explained their assignment with far too much enthusiasm to be appropriate.

 

As Slughorn listed the ingredients they would need on the board and instructed them to the right textbook page. Draco flipped to the page lazily as everyone began getting up to collect their ingredients. Eventually, as the mess of students pushing around the ingredients table thinned, Draco prepared to get his own. He never understood the pushing and shoving in the potions classroom, it wasn’t as though the Professor would provide an insufficient amount of ingredients, Professor Snape would even include enough to compensate for the number of students who would inevitably need to start over. Though, he supposed there was a chance that Slughorn wouldn’t think to do that, but surely behaving like a first year about it all wasn’t necessary.

 

Before he could get up and get his ingredients however, Harry returned carrying an arm full of ingredients, far too much for himself, even if he completely bollocksed it.

 

“Don’t worry about getting up, I grabbed yours while I was there” he said, smiling brightly.

 

Draco’s face flushed an embarrassing shade of pink almost immediately. He had always hated his tendency towards blushing, being as pale as he was, even the slightest increase in blood-flow to his face was immediately obvious to everyone in the general vicinity, his father had spent years teaching him to suppress that particular embarrassing reaction. Though it seemed that Harry was doing his level best to undo all of Lucius Malfoy’s hard work.

 

Honestly though, what was Potter thinking? Why on Earth would he get his ingredients for him? Had he already told his friends about their…. close acquaintanceship? friendship? No… there was no way that he would be stupid enough to have blown their cover like that, surely he knew that whatever it was between them, it had to remain a secret, for his family’s sake if nothing else. So no, he most likely hadn’t confessed. Besides, if he had, Draco was certain Weasley wouldn’t have remained anywhere near as quiet towards him as he had been this lesson. If Harry had admitted anything, Draco would have been on the receiving end of a ginger earful by now. 

 

Maybe he hadn’t revealed the change in their relationship, but maybe he wanted to.

 

Draco nodded once in thanks to Potter, his back rigid with anxiety.

 

As the lesson progressed, Draco grew increasingly frustrated. He now had no choice at all but to confront Harry after class. He was behaving terribly.

 

From the smiles, the overall pleasantness and the attempt at (Merlin help him) idle chit chat to the attempt at helping Draco with his potion, Harry’s behaviour was well on its way to driving Draco spare.

 

Half way through the brewing process Draco had been stirring his potion, watching it turn a slightly darker shade of blue than the book described. The humidity of the potions classroom was making him lightheaded which for a moment he thought was affecting his hearing when he swore Harry leaned over to him to say, “if you add a counterclockwise stir every ten clockwise ones it will lighten up a little bit without completely undoing the work of the clockwise ones. Try it, I think it will bring your potion up to bang on.”

 

Draco nearly chocked on his own tongue.

 

Harry Potter, Chosen One Potter, Walking Disaster Area in Any Potions Classroom Potter was trying to tell him how to improve his potion? There was no way.

 

Except that when he asked Harry to repeat himself, he said the same thing.

 

Draco wasn’t going delusional, even if apparently Harry was.

 

Dean Thomas, another Gryffindor sitting at the table across from Harry and Draco watched their interaction with eyebrows risen. And of course they were risen, the whole situation was becoming ridiculous. If a Gryffindork like Thomas had noticed something odd in Harry’s behaviour towards Draco, Draco was sure that one of the Slytherins would have noticed as well. At least he didn’t have to watch their reactions, they (unfortunately) were subtle enough to hide if they were reacting to something.

 

Draco didn’t respond to Harry’s feedback. He didn’t know what to do. If he thanked him, he would be making his predicament worse by going along with Harry’s foolish behaviour. And if he acted in the way that he should, by shouting and causing a scene, he might jeopardise his newfound friendship.

 

So instead he acted as though he had simply gone deaf in the last hour.

 

Whenever Harry spoke Draco forced himself not to react. He didn’t nod, didn’t respond, he didn’t even glare.

 

Harry sat beside him, his irritation growing. He understood that Draco was stressed out, that he had a lot on his plate and didn’t know what to do with it all, but he must understand on some level that he was being damn rude. It wasn’t like Harry was broadcasting anything Draco had told him in confidence. He was just being friendly. That wasn’t a crime. There must be something else going on with Draco.

 

When Slughorn dismissed the class Draco shot out of his seat faster than Harry had ever seen him move. He made a beeline for the door and fled the scene, without even bottling and submitting his potion. 

 

Harry frowned, Draco’s mission must not have been going very well at all. He got up calmly and bottled Draco’s potion for him, handing it in alongside his own.

 

He left the classroom alongside everyone else and immediately pulled out the Marauder’s Map.

 

Coming up behind him Hermione tutted disapprovingly.

 

“You’re following him again?” She asked, her arms crossing across her chest.

 

Harry tried to look innocent, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried.

 

He wasn’t sure why he bothered to be honest, Hermione could always see through his innocent act. (Everyone could, but Harry didn’t know that).

 

“Is this what was going on in there?” She asked, her head tilting back to gesture towards the classroom behind them.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean you were behaving really strangely Harry, is this part of your following Malfoy thing? Are you trying to… throw him off or something? What was that?”

 

Not wanting to continue the conversation any longer than necessary Harry decided agreeing with her would be the easiest solution, “yeah, trying something different…”

 

Hermione rolled her eyes, “alright, I suppose I’ve made my views on the whole thing very clear by now so if you still want to stalk him I don’t think there’s anything I can do to change your mind. Be back in the common room soon.” With that, she turned and left, off to go tackle her absolute monster of a homework pile. Harry returned to his map.

 

As soon as he found Draco’s dot he set off in pursuit.

 

“What was that in there?” Harry asked, as he finally caught up to Draco.

 

In a single fluid motion Draco turned around on his heel, his face flaming red with embarrassment and fury “What was that? Are you honestly joking right now Potter? What the fuck were you thinking with all that in there?”

 

Harry recoiled, it had been weeks since he’d last heard Draco take such an aggressive tone with him, suddenly the Malfoy Harry had known and hated since he was eleven years old was back in full force, “I was just trying to be friendly!” He snapped, “Maybe I won’t bother next time Malfoy.”

 

Harry fumed, he had been enjoying his developing friendship with Draco more than he would ever have expected to, he was thrilled to be spending time with someone who seemed to understand him without him ever needed to justify himself. He loved Ron and Hermione like family and he honestly didn’t know what he would do without them. But he always had a feeling that Ron and Hermione expected him to act in certain ways, and whenever he didn’t they didn’t know what to do with him. Draco had never made him feel like that. Whenever he threw Draco for a loop, Draco seemed to mentally make note of the unexpected behaviour and add it to his understanding of Harry as a person. For the first time it had felt like he didn’t have to tailor himself, didn’t have to worry about doing the wrong thing.

 

He knew it was stupid, of course he did. He and Draco hadn’t been on better terms for very long at all, maybe he’d built it all up in his head as more than it was. Maybe none of it was real at all.

 

Draco lunged forward and grabbed Harry’s wrist as he tried to storm off, “Are you actually as colossal a moron as you pretend to be? Honestly Harry,” Draco paused, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths to calm his anger, “I appreciate that you were trying to be friendly, but consider for just a single moment what that looked like to everyone in there. We aren’t supposed to be friends. We are meant to be on opposite sides in this war, and if people see that you’re being nice to me, they might wonder if thats the case anymore. Then where does that leave us? Do people start to wonder what my allegiance is? How quickly does that put my family in danger? We cannot be seen to be friendly with each other in public. Its too dangerous.”

 

“So… you don’t want to be friends anymore? Just like that?”

 

“No you arsehole, I’m just asking you to use some subtlety. I recognise that its difficult for you as the concept has clearly been lost on you but we need to keep this as just ours okay… I still want to be your friend, your friendship has come to mean quite a lot to me, despite how ridiculous the idea of it would have seemed to be until very recently, but we can’t be open about it. Is that okay? Because if being your friend is going to put my family in danger I will have to end it here and now.”

 

Harry was startled to notice how relieved he felt following Draco’s explanation, his friendship with the blond had come to mean a lot to him as well, but he wasn’t prepared for how his stomach would fall into his shoes at the thought. As he listened to Draco’s reasoning he felt himself lighten and a smile spread back across his face, it was completely ludicrous to be this relieved.

 

“Yeah,” Harry smiled, “That makes sense. For what its worth I’m sorry I didn’t think about how it would look. I started to worry that maybe it was all your stuff you having going on that was upsetting you, I just didn’t want you to feel alone in it all. I really should have thought about it more from your point of view. I don’t want to make anything more difficult on you or your family so I’ll do better at keeping this between us. Maybe after this whole war is over we can hang out in public.”

 

A small, sad smile graced Draco’s face, he had no expectation of living to see the end of the war, but he had to agree that it made a lovely thought, “yes, maybe then.”


	9. Chapter 9

Over the next few weeks Harry and Draco were spending more and more time together.As per their agreement, their friendship was still strictly secret, though it was getting harder to keep it as such.

 

Their once or twice a week meetings had become almost nightly and Harry was thrilled at the developing friendship the two were sharing. Despite the stress and angst that still coloured his life, he couldn’t help but be happy. It was strange, wrong even, but he couldn’t deny that he felt lighter and younger than he had for months, maybe even years.

 

Ron and Hermione were still suspicious of where he was going every evening, and while Harry knew he couldn’t keep his friendship with Draco a secret for much longer, he didn’t want to tell his best friends about it yet. He knew as soon as he told them he would be overwhelmed with questions, accusations and he knew they would both assume he had completely lost his marbles.

 

He very well might have lost his marbles to be fair.

 

But that wasn’t the point.

 

He just didn’t want Hermione and Ron shouting at him about it, especially not when it had become one of the few bright points in his life.

 

No, for now his friendship with Draco was new, it was exciting and for once in his life he had something that was just his. He wanted to keep it that way for a while.

 

Besides, he wasn’t sure how Ron and Hermione’s (however well intentioned) shouting would affect his delicate new friendship with Draco. Despite the dramatic start they had been keeping things relatively casual and carefully stayed away from contentious issues between them. They had to, neither of them wanted to risk breaking what they had only just found.

 

Nevertheless Harry wondered… They had been enemies for so long, there was so much negative history between them. Surely whatever reasons Draco had for hating Harry from the first day he saw him were still there. Sure, he appreciated that Draco wasn’t necessarily that person anymore, but he had so venomously hated him for so long, maybe keeping the reasons for it pushed away was just Harry fooling himself into believing things had changed. Maybe, at the core of it, they wouldn’t ever be able to get along properly. They might just never get along in the long term.

 

The thought was pathetically depressing.

 

As much as Harry tried to push the worry out of his head, he had never been the type to hide his feelings. To many people Harry’s habit of wearing his heart on his sleeve was his biggest weakness, in that moment, Harry very much agreed.

 

All day his mind circled back to questioning his newfound friendship with Draco and wondering whether he was kidding himself. Maybe he was so desperate for an escape from the constant fighting that he had deluded himself. Maybe Draco was in the same position. Maybe they were both using each other as a form of escape. There were far too may maybes.

 

“Hey Draco?” Harry asked later that night, deciding it was time to bite the bullet and just ask the dreaded questions.

 

Draco immediately noted the tone in Harry’s voice, “Yes?” He asked, nervous for what was to follow.

 

“Why do you, or, did you hate me so much?”

 

The question didn’t seem to surprise Draco as much as Harry had expected. He paused, not out of nerves, but to consider his phrasing. Harry waited patiently (as best he could).

 

“I don’t think I ever hated you” Draco finally said.

 

At the sight of Harry’s raised eyebrows he smiled, “I won’t lie, I didn’t much like you. Still don’t” he smirked at the last comment, making Harry smile. “I thought I hated you for a long time, but looking back I think I was just jealous.”

 

At that comment Harry was even more surprised “of what?” He asked. He couldn’t imagine what he could possibly have that Draco would be jealous of. Draco had everything. He was wealthy, popular, had a family, he didn’t (as far as Harry knew) have a prophecy hanging over his head, he hadn’t had any friends killed… Draco was living Harry’s dream.

 

Draco sighed, “I know it’s juvenile but I resented the fact that you were liked, and not because your friends were told to ‘network’ with you, not because you had been forced into the company of ‘appropriate people’ or anything, you were just charismatic. I never knew if my friends wanted to associate with me or not, I never got to chose who I wanted to interact with and I’m sure many of them were in the same position. I think the only time I ever attempted to make friends of my own was when I tried to become your friend on the train in first year… but of course I buggered that up. But I understand, I went about it entirely the wrong way and I got over it.” Draco rolled his eyes at Harry’s cringe at the memory.

 

“But still,” He continued, “I was also jealous that you had my father’s attention. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t know about you. I don’t know that anyone raised in our world from our year and below does. You were talked about all the time, no one knew where you were, what had happened to you or anything but speculation never stopped. Even in my family there was talk about you. My father never wanted to be a Death Eater, he didn’t really get a choice in signing on- you know how it goes. But he always talked about how you would have had to be really powerful, that you would grow up to be really impressive. He would tell stories about you and how you brought us peace for a while- he never expected it would last, but he still credited you with giving us those years without war. I could never have given him something as significant. I always felt like I was failing to live up to this person who no one had ever seen before. Like I was failing a contest I didn’t want to be a part of.

 

Then of course I actually met you. I wanted to be your friend, as I mentioned, but when that wasn’t going to happen I wanted to prove I was better than you. I couldn’t vanquish evil or anything but maybe I could be more clever, better at Quiddich, just… something. But I’m not. I get better marks than you, but they’re worse than Granger’s so its almost like it doesn’t even matter. And anyway you didn’t seem to care.

 

Its only occurred to me quite recently that maybe I just needed someone to be angry at. I was angry at you for all manner of reasons, none of which made much sense, but I needed it. If I was angry at you I wouldn’t be angry at everything else. If I could convince myself to hate you I thought maybe I would hate having to be an arsehole to everyone else just a little bit less. If I complained that it was unfair that you got on the Quiddich team then maybe I would worry less that it was unfair that I would have no control over my life. Do you see what I mean?

 

It frightens me though, all this anger. Sometimes I think I’m always angry.” Draco sighed, the admission at the end of his speech seeming to weigh heavily in the air between them.

 

“I am too” Harry told him, choosing to focus on the end of the rant, processing the emotional offload would take him a little while yet.

 

“You worry about being too angry? You, Mr. Gryffindor Chivalry?” Draco snorted in obvious disbelief.

 

“Yeah. I really worry about it sometimes. I feel so boxed in by this war, and all the expectations, it just feels so overwhelming all the time and I just get frustrated. I have all these private lessons with Dumbledore that are supposed to help me prepare for when shit hits the fan, but I feel like now that I know what I’m up against, I’m even less prepared than I was before.Sometimes I feel like being angry makes me feel like I’m being productive. I know thats completely mental. But if I’m getting angry and having a whole go at the world it feels like I’m being less passive… like I’m not just accepting whats happening around me lying down..”

 

“Its the illusion of control” Draco muttered.

 

“Yeah, thats it exactly!” Harry agreed, relieved that someone else had experienced it.

 

“Yes. So I suppose we at least have that in common,” Draco smiled.

 

“What a depressing similarity to have” Harry responded, echoing their conversation from a few days earlier.

 

Suddenly the thick fog of seriousness that had settled over their conversation dissipated and the two boys started to laugh. Harry wasn’t sure which of them started first but suddenly this was the funniest revelation either of them had ever had. Draco had tears forming in the corners of his eyes and he clutched tightly at his stomach trying to control his laughter. Harry wasn’t far behind.

 

They laughed, and continued to laugh over their shared situation, for their own hopelessness and with relief over finding someone who understood. Through their laughed, they were both uncomfortably aware that they were probably only laughing because the alternative would be to cry. They were both so young and were in such hopeless situations.

 

“Hey Draco?” Harry asked, his voice dropping to a softer tone. He didn’t turn towards Draco, not wanting him to see the embarrassment evident on his face.

 

Draco didn’t respond, allowing Harry a moment to collect himself.

 

“No don’t worry about it” Harry decided.

 

“You seemed really upset about something.”

 

Harry sighed, wishing he hadn’t said anything, “I just… I hope that one day we can have something less pathetic in common, you know?”

 

Draco’s eyebrows rose and he stayed silent for a minute before responding. Harry’s face had grown subtly pink beneath its usual gold tone.

 

“Harry,” Draco begain, looking away in order to be able to finish saying what he wanted to say, “I know we have some pretty depressing stuff in common, but you don’t honestly think thats our only similarity do you?”

 

Harry thought over his friendship with Draco, they were bonding over their shared sense of doom at the world around them, but did they really have anything more in common?

 

Draco watched Harry thinking it over and sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes at Harry, “Alright Potter, out of your own head for a minute okay. Yes, we have loads of stuff in common. We are both stupidly rich, both have a dark sense of humour, we both feel like we have to hide the majority of our personality from the people around us yes, even if it makes us frustrated and angry. We are both Seekers, because both of us realise that its really the only Quiddich position that matters. We both think Divination is a complete waste of time. Both of us love treacle tart. We both have beautiful owls and we both slip them sneaky treats at the breakfast table. Neither of us can stand Slughorn and his damn Slug Club. Both of us have stupidly complicated relationships with our family, we would both do anything in the world for the people closest to us. And of course, we’re both devastatingly attractive.” He finished with a smirk.

 

Harry’s brain stuttered, trying for a minute to process everything Draco had said, astonished by how much Draco had noticed about him, but more importantly he couldn’t help but fixate on that last point, “You think I’m devastatingly attractive?”

 

“Hush Potter, its not polite to fish for compliments.”


	10. Chapter 10

When Friday rolled around, Harry’s entire body tingled with conflict, he was excited to meet up with Malfoy that evening, something he never thought he would find himself thinking. Not a month ago he would have done anything to get out of spending any time with his rival, and yet his meetings with the other boy had become the thing he looked forward to the most. But before he could meet Malfoy, he had his meeting with Dumbledore. He honestly had no idea where in his schedule he had any time left over to do any homework, but the conflicting sense of anxiety and excitement running through him was taking up far too much of his attention for him to even entertain giving his homework a look over. Something in his life had to give, and it seemed his studies were the first to go. He didn’t particularly regret it.

 

He did however, regret that the sources of his warring emotions were both waiting until after dinner time to be addressed. He spent his day constantly fidgeting, fussing and struggling to keep his composure. He was driving Hermione mental.

 

“For goodness sake Harry! Sit still!” She snapped at him during Transfiguration. His jumping leg had rattled the table so much that he had begun to upset the iguana she had been trying to turn into a cushion.

 

“Sorry Hermione…” He grumbled, forcing himself to sit still. He felt bad for disrupting his very studious friend, though he wondered why she would ever need to transfigure an iguana, surely whatever she might one day need to transfigure the poor creature into would be easier to go out and buy on its own instead of finding an iguana. Where did Professor McGonagall even find so many iguanas for class? He didn’t dare voice that concern though.

 

Hermione looked him over, Harry had been happier in recent weeks, she wasn’t sure what had changed but he didn’t look like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders all the time anymore. She supposed it was a positive change and she ought to be happy for her friend. But she couldn’t help but be desperately curious as to what had brought about this shift in Harry’s demeanour. Especially since its impact seemed to be wildly variable. Today for example, he was nowhere near as forlorn looking as he had been, he certainly didn’t look ready to snap at anyone who looked at him the wrong way (which she very much appreciated) but his anxiety was nearly palpable.

 

“Harry?” She asked gently, using the voice she didn’t yet realise her best friends had dubbed her ‘concerned mother’ voice.

 

“I said. I’m sorry, I’ll try stop it…” He grunted, not looking back at her. Harry often tried to avoid talking to Hermione when she was in one of her ‘concerned’ moods… He really didn’t like to be fussed over.

 

“What’s wrong Harry?” She asked trying again, “I’m not trying to be annoying here, but you really do seem off today. Is there anything I can do to help?”

 

Harry sighed heavily. He really didn’t want to worry Hermione, and he hated that he knew she spent a lot of time worried about him. He considered telling her everything for one brief, semi mad moment. He imagined how that might go “Hermione I’m fine I’m just meeting up with Malfoy tonight, you know Malfoy? The guy who quite freely calls you a Mudblood, has said terrible things about my family, about Ron’s family and about pretty much everyone decent? Well he and I have become friends recently and I promised I’d meet him tonight but you see I also have a meeting with Dumbledore, who wants to put even more ‘save the world’ pressure on me, which I don’t think I can handle any more of at this stage and all I really want to do is tell Dumbledore to sod off so I can spend time with Draco because for some crazy reason he’s the only person in this castle who makes me feel normal! But I can’t do that because as much as I might wish I cold blow it all off, I had to be the Boy Who Fucking Lived which means I don’t get a choice in any of it!”

 

Yeah, he really couldn’t say that.

 

Instead he shrugged and told Hermione just a piece, “I have a meeting with Dumbledore tonight and they’re all starting to get a bit overwhelming.”

 

Hermione looked at her friend carefully, her heart aching for him. “Oh Harry, I know this must be so stressful for you- I really wish there was more Ron and I could do to help you. I know you’re finding it difficult, I’m sure we all would in your position. Just please try and remember you have friends who love you and we would do anything you needed to support you through all of this, you don’t have to carry it all alone.”

 

If Harry wasn’t feeling guilty for witholding from Hermione before hand, he definitely was after that. He didn’t deserve a friend like her. Or Ron. Swallowing harshly Harry muttered an embarrassed “Thanks Hermione.” Before resolutely turning his attention back to his iguana, who was attempting a brave escape off the desk towards freedom.

 

Hermione smiled warmly, almost wanting to laugh at Harry’s intense discomfort in the face of emotional conversation. Though perhaps such a declaration could have waited until after class. She really was lucky to have found friends she loved so fiercely.

 

Both friends felt a lot better after the lesson, Harry even stopped in the all as they left and gave Hermione a quick hug.

 

It was the quickest and least cuddly of any hug Hermione had ever recieved, but given Harry’s usual discomfort with touching, she beamed at him.

 

 

***

 

 

Harry’s day improved dramatically after his brief talk with Hermione, and the day seemed to speed past much faster. Despite everything going on in his life, which was far more than he ever thought he would need to deal with at a time, he felt, for the first time in a while, like he might be able to do it. Not necessarily win, not necessarily destroy Horcruxes and defeat evil but he could get through this war with at least the majority of his sanity in tact.

 

He counted that as a win.

 

After dinner he dutifully made his way up to Dumbledore’s office. The anxiety that had plagued him through the morning returning steadily as he climbed the stairs.

 

“Harry!” The old man called after a single knock, “do come on.”

 

Harry made his way into his usual seat before the headmaster, his nerves not quite settled by his friendly tone. For a while after taking a seat neither said anything, they simply watched each other. Dumbledore broke the silence.

 

“Harry I understand you may have been expecting one of our usual lessons today, unfortunately I have yet to acquire any new information and therefore I have nothing to teach you tonight.”

 

“That’s alright Professor. Though… If I might ask, why did you want me to come to your office?”

 

The headmaster sighed, “Harry my boy, I wanted to have this meeting with you to apologise.”

 

“Professor?”

 

“When you came to me with your concerns regarding Mr. Malfoy, I confess I was taken by surprise, Mr. Malfoy is as much one of my students as you are and I should have taken your concerns more seriously. I am aware of his situation and I am attempting to find a solution to help him should he desire to be helped. I am also aware of course, of how much is already being placed on your shoulders. I do not want to over burden you, but Severus and I have reaped an unfortunate consensus that Mr. Malfoy will not accept faculty assistance. He is in a precarious position and I fear the boy doesn’t know who to trust, therefore he is defaulting to not trusting anyone. If we can assist him, either by removing him from Death Eater influence, or by some other means, I believe he can be an asset to the order, but more importantly he can potentially live a life less tainted by evil.”

 

“And what would you have me do?” Harry asked, trying not to appear too eager. He still didn’t know what exactly Draco had going on, but he knew he needed help.

“I understand that yourself and Mr. Malfoy have had a difficult relationship, your rivalry has been regularly noted by students and staff. However, I believe that following your previous attempt to aid Mr Malfoy may indicate that you might be open to talking to him outside of classes. I think the biggest hurdle to Mr. Malfoy’s defecting to our side is that he simply cannot see a way out, he has no friends or connections on our side, therefore his deeply ingrained sense of self preservation may prevent him from following what he may want.”

 

“So you want me to try and be his friend?”

 

“Yes, I think it could be very beneficial for both of you to have a less hostile relationship.”

 

Harry shifted in his seat, anxious about telling his mentor about the fact that his suggestion was a few weeks late. He had never admitted to his friendship with his former rival, and though he knew the headmaster would approve, he felt undeniably anxious about saying the words out loud.

 

“Well actually Professor,” he began, unable to hold eye contact with the old man, “Draco and I have actually been talking for a few weeks now, I think we might even be becoming good friends at this stage…”

 

Dumbledore surveyed Harry slowly, using the expression that Harry had so often likened to being x-rayed. “Is there anything you want to tell me Harry?”

 

“Well, the thing is Professor, Draco and I have actually been friends for a while now… We got into a bit of an argument, you know, as we do… or, I guess, as we did… and all this stuff just started coming out from both of us, I think we realised that neither of us are actually as bad as we thought.He had a really different impression of who I was and I always thought he was a bit of a dickhead- sorry sir- and so we started talking. I came to talk to you the first time because I realised that this person who I’d always seen as a sort of villain is actually a victim in all of this as well…” His voice trailed off, he’d never tried to explain to anyone how his friendship with Draco started and he worried that the whole thing made him sound a bit mad.

 

“I know it sounds crazy-“ Harry began, hoping to correct himself.

 

“No Harry I don’t think it does,” Dumbledore assured him, “in fact I am quite happy to hear of your change of heart towards Mr. Malfoy. We in the staff are aware to some degree of the nature of Mr. Malfoy’s situation, though of course we can only know as much as he choses to reveal, it was only through Professor Snape that I came to learn of his less than sympathetic view towards Voldemort, had I not heard his account of Mr. Malfoy’s situation I believe I too might have believed as you did. Fortunately these views can be changed. I think both you and he can use all the friendship you can find yourself, times being what they are.”

 

 

“Yeah… I guess its been good, I’m so used to disliking him that somehow its made me not worry about how I come off, if that makes any sense. I feel like I don’t need to worry about saying the wrong thing around him and all that because no matter what he thinks of me it will always be more flattering than what he used to think. Its kind of a relief. I feel like everyone else has these expectations of me, even Ron and Hermione, they’re my friends and I know they support me, but I think sometimes even they expect me to play the hero and its a lot of pressure. Its been nice to have someone who can be a bit of a break from that sometimes.”

 

Dumbledore stayed silent, allowing Harry to put his thoughts into words, he listened with full attention on what he was saying, fascinated by this change in dynamic. “I am very glad to hear it my boy. I know of course, that the conflicts of our world are disproporitonally affecting you and it pains me to say that I don’t see that burden being lifted anytime soon, so I am grateful to hear that you are finding some restbite from it. I might assume that Mr. Malfoy is finding a similar solace in yourself. I will however, caution you not to dive headfirst into this friendship as an attempt to escape your responsibilities, as much as I may regret it, you cannot walk away from this war Harry.”

 

Harry’s brow furrowed, “Sir, I know what you mean, I really do, and its something I’ve worried about a lot. But I think, in a way, being friends with Draco gives me time to rest from it all, and I can come back and think about all the stuff I have to deal with with a clear head. I don’t think he’s a distraction I think he’s acting as a fuel. I can’t think about Voldemort and Horcruxes and how the hell I’m going to pull this thing off all the time or I’ll go completely round the twist before Voldemort even has a chance to pop me off. If I can take time off here and there, even for an hour or so, not to be Harry Potter, but to be Harry and to have fun and not have the burden of this bloody prophecy hanging over me, I think I might actually be better off for it.”

 

Dumbledore nodded, his expression giving away no indication of how he felt about Harry’s defence of his friend.

 

Of course the Headmaster was well aware that Harry couldn’t live his entire life as a hero, he needed friendships and close relationships as a support network. Obviously Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger were the primary givers of that support, but the more frightened they became, the more Harry felt the pressure to proctect them, to live up to the expectations that they had of him.

 

He knew that they had never spoken their expectations to Harry, they never said anything to indicate that they fully expected him to be able to defend them, but Harry was more perceptive than some people give him credit for. He knew, without being told, that his best friend’s lives were in his hands. And naturally, Harry had been a friendless orphan upon his arrival at Hogwarts, after finding friendships in Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger Harry felt some degree of debt towards them, because they took him in and provided him that support system that he had never known before, he felt he owed it to them to lay down his life to their defence. At a certain point, those friends may become as much a burden as they are a support.

 

He allowed the pause to continue as he thought further, Albus had known from the beginning that Harry needed to feel such an overwhelming debt of gratitude to the people he would find at Hogwarts in order for his plan to be successful, and he wondered if Mr. Malfoy would threaten that plan. If Harry had a new friend, with a wildly different perspective, would it change his priorities?

 

No, he decided, Harry might listen to Malfoy and might be touched by some of his ideas about being his own person and embracing his own innate value, but ultimately if Harry decided he was worthwhile keeping around and brought him into his close group of friends, Harry would simply add him to the long list of people he needed to defend.

 

Friendship with Mr. Malfoy might even bring an end to Voldemort faster if he could be persuaded to share intel about Death Eaters and their activity. Perhaps Mr. Malfoy could be useful after all.

 

“How much have you told Mr. Malfoy about your lessons with me and your knowledge of the war?” Dumbledore asked.

 

Harry shrugged, “not much I can tell him is there? I haven’t said anything about Horcruxes or anything I know about Voldemort, I try and keep things pretty general when I do say anything. I mean, neither of us can really tell each other anything at this stage, we just sort of accept that. He has his secrets and I have mine.”

 

“Well Harry, I think perhaps I ought to trust your judgement when it comes to young Mr. Malfoy. If you believe him to be trustworthy, as trustworthy as Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger, then by all means you can share what you like with him, provided of course that he doesn’t share it any further.”

 

Harry chocked, “are you sure? Telling him anything? I thought this was top level secret stuff?”

 

He raised his hand to halt the startled teenager, “Yes Harry, this is very much top level secret, I hope to keep the pool of people with this knowledge as small as possible. Do not mistake this for an invitation to start telling whoever you want. But you are right, you need a support system, you need people you can trust, and if Draco Malfoy is one of those people than you can make him as involved in your part of the war as you wish him to be.”

 

Harry’s breath left him all at once, he had no idea what to say so he settled for simply saying “Thank you Professor” before leaving the office significantly lighter than he was when he came in.


	11. Chapter 11

Not long later, Harry found himself running full speed towards the Room of Requirement, hoping desperately that Draco was still waiting for him. Fortunately for Harry (less fortunately for Draco), Harry ran directly into the blond as he was making his way back to the Slytherin common rooms. 

“I am so sorry I’m late!” Harry blurted, guilt weighing heavily in his stomach.

He was thrilled with how his meeting with Dumbledore went, he was relieved to feel some of the guilt for hanging out with Draco lift off his shoulders. He worried about how Ron or Hermione would react to his friendship with Draco, and to have Dumbledore’s seal of approval (sort of) was a breath of fresh air. 

That being said, he felt terrible for making Draco wait, he knew their newfound friendship was still insecure and awkward in parts, when Harry was running late he knew Draco would assume he wouldn’t be coming. 

Harry knew what that felt like, thinking he had been abandoned by friends. It wasn’t something he would wish on his new friend. 

“I thought you weren’t coming” Draco said, trying to seem casual about his insecurity.

He had arrived early in the Come and Go room. His evenings spent with Harry were quickly becoming the highlights of his week and he hadn’t wanted to miss a moment. When Harry hadn’t arrived on time Draco hadn’t initially been concerned, Harry wasn’t known for being prompt. As time continued on though, insecurity set in. 

If Harry forgot about him, or changed his mind, it would only be logical. Why would he want to spend time in Draco’s company? He had only ever been cruel, arrogant and awful around him, he was a Death Eater who would have to commit terrible crimes painfully soon to save his family. It would really be better if Harry abandoned him. It was with those thoughts that he eventually gave up and prepared to return to his common room. 

“No! I really am sorry” Harry promised, “I had a meeting with Dumbledore before seeing you, and I hadn’t expected it to go for so long, I really wanted to leave but he really needed to talk to me about something important and I couldn’t get away. I really feel awful.”

Draco’s posture relaxed and he fought to suppress a growing smile. He thought he had accepted the end of their brief friendship but the relief he felt demonstrated quite firmly to himself how wrong he had been. 

“What was the meeting about?” Draco asked, “if I can ask that?”

“Yeah, you can ask. But… ugh maybe we should go to back to the room?” Harry suggested, well aware that it wouldn’t be a conversation that should be overheard. 

Draco nodded, gesturing for Harry to go ahead of him. 

The two walked in silence, Harry fidgeting slightly as he tried to rehearse in his head how he was going to explain everything to Draco. 

By the time they had arrived in the room, Harry was no closer to knowing what he was going to say. Ron and Hermione could easily be kept up to date on his lessons with Dumbledore because they had been receiving bits and pieces of information as Harry had, slowly and incrementally. He had never thought about how much there was to offload, and how overwhelming it could be to hear it all at once. Merlin, it was overwhelming to have heard it over the course of a few years, yet alone in an evening. 

He stood awkwardly in the Room of Requirement, twisting his hands together and trying to find words, trying to figure out how to convey the seriousness and intensity of the information he had on Voldemort as well as his role in the war without buggering the whole thing up. 

“I think we should sit down for this, I don’t really know how to begin to explain any of this, so I really am just going to start talking and hope for the best, so please bear with me. I’ve never told anyone all of it at once before.” Harry began. 

Draco nodded, he sensed the seriousness of their upcoming conversation and tensed, ready to face what Harry had to say.

“So I think I’ve mentioned to you before that I’ve been having private lessons with Dumbledore this year.” Harry said as Draco nodded in affirmative. 

“Well, the thing is, there’s this prophecy- the one I heard in the Department of Mysteries, the one your father was trying to get back for Voldemort… I was lured there by Voldemort because he wanted to hear the full prophecy because it says that… well, it says that I have to be the one who will defeat him in the end. ‘Neither can live while the other survives’… Anyway I heard it before it was destroyed and since then I’ve been having lessons with Dumbledore that are meant to get me ready to go out and fight him…”

Draco’s eyes had widened like saucers, neither can live while the other survives, any wonder Harry was feeling so drowned by responsibility. 

“Anyway,” Harry continued, taking a deep breath to steady himself, “learning how to fight him is obviously quite difficult, and part of that has to do with…. Do you know what a Horcrux is?”

“Harry…” Draco breathed, “Does the Dark Lord have a Horcrux? Because if he does its really bad, thats extremely dangerous magic…”

“Yes,” Harry confirmed, “in fact, he has seven.”

“Seven?”

“Seven.”

“I didn’t even know that was possible!”

“Apparently it is, he found a way to make seven Horcruxes and Dumbledore and I are working on how to find and destroy them which we need to do before we can kill him.”

“It shouldn’t be possible… to split your soul that many times, he’d be almost pure dark magic at this point.” Draco muttered, more to himself than Harry. 

“Yeah I mean, he’s a pretty dark guy… hence, Dark Lord…”

“No, I don’t think you understand,” Draco smiled, amused that Harry thought he was pointing out the obvious, “your magic is stored in your soul, its essentially your magical core, thats why magic is such a fundamental part of who witches and wizards are. When a person splits their soul in half, the half thats missing needs to be replaced by something else or else the person would be half as magically powerful. Because Horcurxes are made through magic that is literally soul splittingly evil, that loss of magic can be made up again by the use of pure dark magic. If you think about the Dark Lord, who has seven, half of his soul goes into Horcrux number one, leaving him with half a soul left. Then when he creates Horcrux number two, he only has half a soul which is split in half again, leaving him with only a quarter of a soul, and three quarters dark magic. Then an eighth, then a sixteenth, and so on and so on. If he does in fact have that many Horcruxes, there is likely almost none of his human soul left. He will be almost entirely dark magic made animate. The issue there is that dark magic is inherently unstable and can be extremely difficult to control. It all just makes the Dark Lord much more dangerous.”

“Oh good, because he was so tame and easily defeatable before hand,” Harry grumbled, “at this stage I’m not even surprised, every time I hear anything more about him he just gets more and more dangerous sounding. I have no idea how I’m going to do this… Its kind of hopeless isn’t it?”

Draco glanced sympathetically at Harry, “at least hopeless situations are something we have in common,” he smiled.

“Yeah I know, your whole family situation is intense and all that. But no offence, you’re hardly expected to kill one of the most powerful wizards of all time.” Harry snapped.

Draco flinched at Harry’s wording, and decided in that moment to say ‘fuck it’ “the Dark Lord has tasked me with killing Dumbledore.” He confessed, the words tearing their way past his lips in a rush.

He had never said it out loud before. 

Harry sat in shock. Draco had to kill Dumbledore. That was what had been making him so stressed this term. But Draco didn’t want to, he wanted a way out, he was worried about his family. Harry had been right when months ago he had said Draco had become a Death Eater to replace his father. Now he was given a job that Voldemort himself hadn’t been able to achieve. How did he honestly expect Draco to be able to do it? 

Oh Merlin. 

He didn’t expect Draco to be able to do it. 

Voldemort needed an excuse to torture the Malfoys, and with Lucius in prison, the best way is through Draco. He gave Draco an impossible task that would either kill him, or give him an excuse to kill off the family. Either way, Lucius is well and truly punished. 

While Harry sat silently thinking over the other boy’s unfortunate situation, Draco continued talking “I was given quite a specific mission, I need to lure Death Eaters into the castle while Dumbledore is away at some point and while they are ransacking the castle, I need to prepare to kill the headmaster upon his arrival.

I don’t want to do it, I swear I don’t, but I don’t know how I’m going to get out of it. If I fail my parents die and it will all be my fault. If I succeed then the headmaster will die and that will be my fault too. So either way there are going to be people who are dead because of me and I really don’t think that’s something I can handle. 

I have tried to delay, making attempts on the headmaster’s life that looked like I was putting effort in but that I hoped wouldn’t succeed. You were right, I did curse Katie Bell, but I honestly didn’t expect her to touch it and I knew that all deliveries to the headmaster had to be tested by Severus before he received them- Severus would have immediately recognised the curse on the necklace and it wouldn’t have hurt anyone.

I also poisoned Weasley, I know you’ll probably hate me again for that. As much as I won’t deny not being a fan of your giant pet ginger, I would never want to kill him. The poison I used had an incredibly short shelf life before going inert. Slughorn must have had that mead for less than a couple days for it to still be toxic. I assumed he wouldn’t deliver it to Dumbledore, but I miscalculated, I thought he’d at least shelve it for a while, even a few days before taking it for himself. 

I wanted so desperately to fix things, to undo it, to not have done it in the first place. I know what you must think of me. But I don’t know what to do. Every few days I get letters from my mother, begging me to tell her I’d made progress on the mission. Reminding me that her life and my father’s are in my hands. All this while knowing that no one expects me to succeed. I don’t even want to succeed. I don’t even know any more.”

Draco was surprised he managed to get through his offload without shaking. Normally just thinking about his mission was enough to send Draco into fits of anxiety. But somehow laying bare all the facts left him with a sense of detached acceptance. As though he was talking about a tragic fate that would befall a stranger. Sure, it was sad to think about, but there was nothing he could do. He never thought the deaths of himself and his family would be something he could have such a blasé attitude towards. He almost impressed himself.

Harry gaped at the blond, he knew, having begun a friendship with Draco that he wasn’t entirely the person he pretended to be, but he had no idea how much Draco had been struggling. And what he had been struggling with. Killing Dumbledore. Merlin. No wonder Draco always looked only a few moments away from falling apart. Harry had no idea what to say, even as he forced out a heartfelt “I’m so sorry Draco” he knew it was pathetic. 

What could Draco do with an ‘I’m sorry’, what could Draco do with anything Harry could offer a this point?

Draco smiled weakly at his friend, “Thanks Harry, I appreciate it. I just wish I wasn’t so much of a coward to get myself in this situation in the first place. I keep going over all of it in my head looking for something I could have done differently. For some way out I might have missed along the way. But the thing is… even if there was a way out that I missed somewhere, I doubt I would have ever taken it. I don’t think I’m brave enough for that.”

Harry looked him dead in the eye, a surge of anger flooding through him, “don’t you dare call yourself a coward. My God Draco, I had no idea you were going through half that, the fact that you’re even still sane is a miracle… I can’t pretend I can understand what its like to be in your situation, I genuinely can’t, but I know what it feels like to feel like you’re going to collapse under the weight of the pressure you’re under and I know what it feels like to want to do what’s right for the people you love. If there was a way out I don’t think you would have taken it either, but not because you’re a coward. I think you wouldn’t have taken it because you would want to stay for your family. That’s the kind of person you are. You’re willingly putting yourself through hell just to give your parents a fighting chance of getting through, thats as brave as anyone can be. Trust me.”

Draco’s eyes dropped as soon as Harry finished speaking, a brilliant pink flush rising across his face. No one had ever, in his entire life, called him brave. The very idea seemed ridiculous. He was always ‘spineless’. He had never been called brave before but he realised, upon hearing the words coming from the boy he had come to trust more than almost anyone, that he had always so desperately wanted to hear them. 

He spent his life being the person everyone expected him to be, playing the role he was told to play, he did it willingly but no one had ever acknowledged the effort it took. His parents never congratulated him on keeping the mask up, no one ever asked how he felt after facing the Dark Lord for the first time at fifteen years old, no one really wanted to know Draco. Not even Pansy, his oldest friend, showed any interest in Draco personally. She wanted to know how his mission was progressing because she wanted to make sure it wouldn’t fall to her should he fail. She wanted to get close to him in the hopes that one day she might become the next Mrs. Malfoy. She loved him and cared for him but she barely knew him. 

Yet somehow, in a few short weeks Harry Potter not only saw Draco beneath the Malfoy mask, he saw the struggle it took to maintain it, he saw the fear and the way his mission was eating him alive and admired him despite it. No. Not despite it. He admired him because of it. Harry Potter, world famous for his bravery and heroism admired Draco’s ability to withstand struggle.

Draco wiped a stray tear from the side of his eye, hoping not to be seen having embarrassingly fallen apart, unfortunately he wasn’t as subtle as he would have liked. Seeing his friend’s emotional overwhelm Harry pulled him into a tight hug. 

Though Harry had never been particularly touchey feeley he couldn’t help but like holding Draco close to him. Instead of feeling awkward and too hot with a foreign body pressed against himself, Harry felt comforted and content. He rested his head on top of Draco’s soft hair and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation for as long as he could. 

“You’re going to be okay” Harry murmured. 

After a moment he heard the response, “we both will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has been leaving such lovely comments, you guys are really making me smile :)


	12. Chapter 12

It was amazing how full of anxiety a letter from his father could make Draco these days. In his first few years at school a letter from home had always been a source of excitement and happiness. His parents would write to him to tell him they loved him and missed him, they would keep him up to date on what they were doing and would congratulate him on doing well at school. They were a source of comfort for his homesickness.

 

Even when his father was in Azkaban he wrote frequently to Draco, paying huge sums for the privilege to do so, his letters rarely talked about the dreariness of his confinement and instead always asked about how Draco was going, how his mother was holding up in his absence. Though he never spoke directly of Death Eater plans, Lucius did his best to keep his son informed of Death Eater activity and did his best to ensure Draco could put himself in the right place when things happened.

 

In the last year though, he didn’t miss being at home surrounded by all the Death Eater activity, he didn’t want updates on how dire his family’s situation was and he really didn’t want to be reminded yet again that his family’s safety was on his shoulders. Letters now brought on massive amounts of stress.

 

Gingerly opening the letter brought to him from Lucius’ eagle owl Jupiter and braced himself.

 

 _Dear Draco,_ the letter began.

 

_I hope this letter finds you well._

_I am writing to you to inform you that our family friend has been notified by some of your classmates that you have been leaving the Slytherin common room on a nearly nightly basis. Our friend of course, is delighted to learn of your enthusiasm for your extra curricular project. We are all waiting with bated breath back here to see when you complete it, we very much look forward to the results. Please inform us at your earliest convenience of its completion, our friend is certain it will be completed before long as you are of course very aware of the importance of your extra curricular commitments._

_Your mother and I are in good health though of course we miss you dearly and look forward to your response. We hope this year is treating you well and that you are conducting yourself with proper behaviour, I am sure that I do not need to remind you of the responsibilities you have as a member of this family and I am sure that you are well aware that any behaviour unbefitting to your station will be shared among our social circles by your classmates and their parents. Though of course, I am certain you do not require such a reminder._

_Truly I hope you are well and I look forward to seeing you soon. The work I do is keeping me very busy and away from home most nights, I look forward to the school holidays when I can once again enjoy your company and to have our family reunited again. I’m sure your mother will be thrilled to have you back with her as well.Malfoy Manor is still playing host to many of our friends, but your absence remains sorely felt._

_I look forward to hearing from you about your health, and to receive an update on your extra curricular work, time is of the essence, as you well know._

_With love,_

_Lucius Abraxas Malfoy_

 

Despite his father’s attempts at some level of reassurance, Draco’s stomach sunk into his shoes. He knew of course that he was being watched, he always was, it was a fact of life, not just in Slytherin, but among the old families in general. Everyone watched everyone and they all kept each other in line. It was how propriety was maintained.

 

The tradition began centuries ago when the dormitories were first combined to have boys and girls from the same house in the same area (though not the same specific dorms), suddenly students of opposite sexes were in far closer proximity to one another than they had ever been before. Naturally, parents worried about their children maintaining their virtues. Students were encouraged to write home and report back on the behaviour, and more importantly, misbehaviour, of their fellow students. From there it became an established part of the Hogwarts experience for most old familied students (not just Pure Bloods, but those who were distantly related to them as well).

 

It came as no surprise whatsoever to Draco that his classmates had been reporting back to their parents that Draco was spending most nights away from the dormitories. It didn’t make him feel better about it though. He had managed to convince himself that he had been discrete. To see the failure of that assumption made so evident and to have the reality of his situation brought back to the forefront of his mind was jarring.

 

Two things were very clear: Draco was running out of time and he had no idea what to do about it.

 

 

***

 

 

Wind whipped Harry’s hair violently backwards as he sped through the air. He gripped tightly to his broom as he swerved around a tight corner. His body filled with adrenalin as he chased the snitch he and Draco were searching for. He could see it a few meters out in front of him, and he whipped his head around to see how far behind him Draco was.

 

Draco is an immensely talented flyer, and a fiercely competitive one. This was something Harry had always known (though the first point there was one that he historically tried to deny), so seeing him flying ages behind him caught him off guard. Harry and Draco were usually neck and neck and yet Draco seemed completely disinterested. He was following Harry but didn’t seem to have even seen the snitch.

 

Harry turned back to follow the little golden ball, surely Draco was just momentarily distracted.

 

As Harry surged forward and his fist closed around the snitch he swerved back around to face Draco.

 

“I win!” He declared.

 

Draco’s usual frustration with losing was completely missing from his face. “Yeah, good effort Potter.” He said, already turning to descend.

 

Harry frowned. Arguing internally about asking Draco what was wrong… it could benothing. Or maybe he was genuinely wanting to talk about something and didn’t know how to bring it up. Were they even at the point where they could ask about this kind of thing unprovoked?

 

After they dismounted Harry decided he couldn’t leave it be. He had never been particularly good at leaving things be anyway, and doing so now would have driven Harry mad.

 

“Draco?” He asked tentatively, hoping the right words to say would come to him.

 

Draco hummed in response, a brief indication than he was listening.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“Nothing. What do you mean?”

 

“Its just that, you seem kind of withdrawn today… I wanted to know if everything was okay. I mean- obviously it isn’t- thats how our whole thing started isn’t it, because it isn’t all okay- I mean, did anything new happen? You seem more distracted and worried than usual… Which isn’t to say that you don’t have the right to be stressed, you have a lot going on, I know that, you know that, and frankly I think you’re doing really well about the whole thing, but if you waned to talk about it. If there is an it. I’m here.”

 

Draco pressed his lips together to stifle and amused laugh. Harry was very sweet in his misguided little way wasn’t he? Wordlessly he reached into his pocket and pulled out his father’s letter, handing it over to Harry to read.

 

Harry’s eyes flicked back and forth as he took in Lucius’ words.

 

“Come on,” Harry said, as he finished reading the letter, “lets go up to the Room of Requirement, we can talk about it there.”

 

Draco nodded gratefully and followed as Harry turned on his heel towards the Come and Go Room.

 

They arrived with the room in its usual configuration and silently took their usual spots. Neither of them were in any rush to start talking, both lost in their own thoughts for a moment.

 

Draco was berating himself, how could he have been so naive as to think that he could just hang out with Harry and put the war away for a while. How had been stupid enough to think he had the luxury of a normal life for a moment. Not only was it stupid but it was also unbelievably selfish! While he was playing quiddich with Harry and sneaking off every night to spend a brief moment being normal, more importantly, feeling normal, his parents were still completely under the Dark Lord’s thumb. They were the ones who would pay the price for his laziness. They were the ones he was trying to stick it out for, and yet he was failing them. Just like the Dark Lord had assumed he would.

 

It was true, Draco had never been a selfless or self sacrificing person. These were qualities he never would have claimed to have. But he also wasn’t as bad as most people assumed. While it was very true that he got whatever he wanted, rarely had to lift a finger and he had parents who doted on him, he cared deeply for them. He was spoiled, sure, but he wasn’t self absorbed.

 

Or maybe he was.

 

Neglecting his mission for his own selfish purposes… maybe he was exactly as bad as the people around him always said he was.

 

While Draco lost himself in his spiral of self hatred, Harry’s mind was in overdrive, in a far more positive way. He went directly into planning mode. He needed to find a way to get Draco out of this situation.

 

Of course, his immediate thought was to go to Dumbledore again, but he knew it wasn’t a course of action Draco would approve of, and they really didn’t have time to argue about it anymore. If Draco didn’t want to go to Dumbledore again, then that plan was out the window.

 

Which left Harry to try and come up with a new one.

 

As much as Harry had been in death defying, high stress situations before he had rarely gone into them with a solid plan of action beforehand. Planning out how to get out of a dangerous situation was actually not something he had ever really done before. Save for during parts of the Triwizard Tournament, and even then, it was mostly Hermione’s doing.

 

This time, there was no Hermione.

 

“Alright,” Harry began, finally breaking the silence, “what are your options?”

 

“Well right now, its pretty much, finish the cabinet or don’t finish the cabinet. Either me and my entire family die, or we don’t.” Draco responded, his chest tight with stress.

 

“Okay, well obviously we don’t want you to die, so you’ll have to finish the cabinet.”

 

“Yes I will. There are just two very obvious problems. The first being that I have been trying to fix the fucking cabinet all year and I can’t do it!”

 

“Yeah I know, but once we know what we’re doing, we work out how to do it. I could even find a way to help you if you needed.” Harry offered.

 

Draco groaned, it was going to be impossible but he was touched by Harry’s offer anyway. “Even if I am successful, me getting that cabinet fixed means letting a bunch of Death Eaters into the castle, and having to kill Dumbledore. Thats what happens if I succeed with the first part here, I have that second part to get to. Thats a pretty significant part of what I have to do!”

 

“I know, I know. We’re just going one step at a time here though aren’t we? So… you have to let Death Eaters into the castle… not ideal, I’ll be honest…. Alright so, what if we could alert the Order of the Phoenix, so that way you’ve let them in but without… you know… the whole chaos that would come from Hogwarts being surprised by an attack.”

 

“I’ll still be killed- and get my family killed- if I don’t kill Dumbledore! And worse if they find out that I alerted the Order of the fucking Phoenix Harry, they tend to frown upon that kind of thing in the Death Eater community!”

 

Harry thought about it… Draco was right of course, he couldn’t just not kill the Headmaster. That was pretty crucial to his mission. “What if…” Harry wondered out loud, “What if he can’t kill you?”

 

Draco slowly raised a single blond eyebrow in question, “if you’ve been hoarding the secret to eternal life or something over there Potter I am going to have a lot of questions for you.”

 

Harry sent him a look “no dumbass, not in an immortal way… what if you were already dead or something?”

 

Draco’s mock surprised expression morphed into one of genuine shock, “are you actually saying your plan to get me out of this madman’s mission is to just kill myself before he can?”

 

“No!” Harry said, leaping out of his chair as an idea came to him “I’m not saying kill yourself, I’m saying let him believe you died! If we alert the Order then we can play it off like you got killed in the crossfire when the Order were fighting the Death Eaters. That way they think you might have actually completed your mission and he can’t exactly blame your parents for you dying and not being able to kill Dumbledore! And this way no one has to actually get killed! And he can’t exactly take it out on your parents, since its not your fault you got killed by the enemy!”

 

Harry was pacing the room as he spoke, his excitement evident as he ranted his plan to a stunned Draco. Draco could very obviously see Harry’s enthusiasm for the plan, but there was still a pretty obvious flaw in Harry’s plan.

 

“How do we convince all these Death Eater’s that I’m dead though? Surely they need to see a body or something or they’d never believe it. And you can’t exactly walk up to one of them and give your condolences for my passing!”

 

“Well no… You’re right… but what if there was a way we could make you look dead, have one of them see it for yourself. Then we could let them believe you were killed and we could hide you somewhere else while we figure out next steps. It buys us some time.”

 

“So you’re suggesting I take a Draught of the Living Death type thing, ‘die’ for a while, get fed an antidote and then escape the castle somehow?”

 

“Exactly!”

 

Draco thought it over carefully, Draught of the Living Death was an extremely lethal potion and he wasn’t going to consider drinking it without some very careful consideration. That being said though, the alternative was likely to be equally dangerous.

 

“Okay… lets say hypothetically we did this…. we could steal some Draught of the Living Death from Slughorn, and some antidote as well… We would need to figure out where I would go.”

 

“Let me take care of that part” Harry interjected. If worst came to absolute worst, Harry was even willing to smuggle Draco back to the Dursley’s somehow.

 

“Alright” Draco nodded, thinking it over. It might be possible, he figured, and in his desperate position he was hardly able to be overly picky. The alternative was himself and his family being killed by Voldemort so he was willing to consider any plan that minimised the risk of that happening. Even if it was a long shot. “Then I guess all thats left is my parents thinking their son was killed… I don’t even know if I would be able to contact them and let them know, Legilimency is used so much among Death Eaters I don’t know if it would even be safe to tell them. Oh Merlin, Mother will be absolutely beside herself… Father too… It will be just awful…”

 

Draco’s eyes had filled with tears, though none of them fell. The thought of putting his parents, two of his favourite people int he world, through that much pain, seemed beyond cruel. Yet, there was a very real chance that it was his only option. His parents would be devastated if they thought he died, but they could recover from that. And if the war came to an end and the Dark Lord was defeated, they could be reunited. There were chances to reverse the pain he would put them through. If they were all killed- well, that was pretty permanent. 

 

“Okay.” Draco agreed. “I’ll figure out how to steal the potions we need, you figure out where I can hide to and we will reconvene soon.”

 

Harry smiled brightly with relief, “I won’t let you down on this Draco.”


	13. Chapter 13

After having promised Draco that he would find a solution to the ‘what to do once he’s faked his death and has no where to go’ issue, Harry found himself entirely out of ideas on how to fulfil that promise. He couldn’t think his way out of this issue, Harry had never been particularly good at creative problem solving, he had always relied on winging it and hoping for the best, which he was happy to do when he was in trouble, but felt deeply uncomfortable doing when someone else’s fate was on the line. He needed to give Draco a solid plan to follow. 

Except, as established, he sucked at planning. 

Which meant he had only one option. To go to his friend who was the best planner in the world. 

Hermione. 

Harry trusted Hermione’s judgement implicitly, he had done since they first became friends, and if it was just his problem he would have blurted out the whole thing out at once and begged for her to concoct a solution. But he couldn’t risk revealing too much about Draco. Damn him. Making things difficult by turning out to be cool and interesting… and fun to be around… he really was inconsiderate. 

He raked his hands through his hair, further messing up his dark strands. It seemed the more stressed he got lately, the larger his mop of hair was becoming. It was by now very firmly resembling a nest for a gigantic owl. It was any wonder Hedwig hadn’t tried to perch in it yet, although, she could potentially wind up lost in there. It wasn’t his best look but it seemed his stress levels were unlikely to go down anytime soon so the wild thing on his head was going to stay put as it was. 

He knew eventually he had to tell Ron and Hermione about Draco, he really did, and Dumbledore had taken the news well so maybe his friends would too… 

But what if they didn’t?

Harry’s stomach churned painfully at the thought of his best friends’ disapproval.

He didn’t even know what he would do if that happened. Would he break off his friendship with Draco to preserve Ron and Hermione’s approval? No… that didn’t seem fair. Ron was at perfect liberty to be dating Lavender Brown (though how it came to be Harry still had no idea) despite Hermione’s obvious disapproval. Not that he was going to date Draco. Maybe it wouldn’t even come to an argument. Maybe it would all be fine. He decided to hold onto that as his mantra until he was proven right or wrong. 

Maybe it would be alright

***

“Hermione?” Harry asked nervously in the common room that night. 

Hermione, who had been waiting for Harry to come to her for advice for a few weeks now perked up immediately at his tone. Harry was so often slow to open up and it had been driving her mad trying not to nag him into telling her what was going on. “Yes Harry?” She replied, trying her hardest to sound casual. (It didn’t work, but Harry was endeared by the attempt).

“I need some advice.” 

It took all of Hermione’s well cultivated restraint not to beam at her friend. Or worse, to lunge forward and hug him for it. 

“Alright, what do you need advice with?” She asked, trying to keep her expression neutral.

“Well, see, I can’t fully tell you much about it… I will at some point, but right now its all quite up in the air so bear with me yeah?”

Hermione nodded, her curiosity piqued. 

“So lets just say this is all hypothetical. That I might know someone who might need help. Hypothetically of course, Dumbledore knows about it but doesn’t have a plan in place. And this person, who may or may not actually exist, isn’t fond of the idea of Dumbledore planning anything anyway. Anyway, there might be something that might happen that’ll mean this person might need to get out of the castle and I want to help… I mean… I might want to help if it wasn’t hypothetical… but I don’t know how to start finding somewhere to hide a person… And since I can’t go to Dumbledore I really don’t know what to do.” 

“So let me just make sure I’m understanding you correctly. You need to help someone hide somewhere, but you can’t tell me who it is, or why they need to be hidden?” She clarified.

“Hypothetically!” He protested, hesitant to reveal too much.

“Harry I’m not stupid. This isn’t a hypothetical situation. I won’t ask for any more details but I need to know what the situation actually is if I’m going to be any help to you whatsoever.”

Harry nodded, accepting her argument but not willing to give up any more information than that.

“Alright, so you can’t go to the Headmaster for undisclosed reasons. That does make things more difficult. I assume that if the Headmaster is out then any teachers at the school are also out. So I suppose you’ve got to consider which adults you trust that aren’t in that category. Naturally your relatives aren’t an option, so I guess that leaves Order members who aren’t staff.”

“Yeah… I guess I would have gone to Sirius about this, before… all that.”

Hermione sighed, placing a hand gently on Harry’s shoulder, unsure of what else she could say. 

“What about,” she offered, “contacting Professor Lupin. He’s not Sirius, but I’m sure he would be just as eager to help you out if you asked him.”

Harry nodded, yeah, Remus might be a good person to contact. He wasn’t likely to ask too many questions and he was close enough to Harry to trust him and to, most likely, be willing to help him. He was certainly a safe option.

“I just don’t know how to get in touch with him,” Harry mused, “ordinarily I would send Hedwig, but I worry thats too slow and I know she might be being watched for…”

“Oh!” Hermione exclaimed, “do you have Sirius’ mirror? The one he gave you to contact him if you needed to. Maybe he left it somewhere around Grimmauld Place! If the Order are using it as headquarters I’m sure Professor Lupin will get a chance to go looking for it to contact you. Do you still have your end?” Hermione asked in her characteristic style of saying everything she was thinking without pausing for a single breath. 

Harry did have his end of the mirror, in fact, since his Godfather’s passing it had become one of his most prized possessions. The sight of the little shard of mirror filled him with such a complicated mess of emotions that though he had come to guard it extremely carefully, he could hardly bring himself to look upon it. It was a symbol of his deepest regret, not getting in contact with Sirius and leading him to his death- heavy stuff. But it was also a reminder of the friendship between his father and godfather, it made him happy to think that despite James Potter and Sirius Black’s tragic deaths, they also had so much happiness in their lives. 

“Yeah” he finally responded, “I have it” 

“Great!” Hermione exclaimed, clapping her hands, “so thats what you can do!”

Getting up to leave, Hermione patted Harry’s shoulder gently. She knew he was stressed out and she hoped she could ease some of his stress by helping him out. Harry reached up to squeeze her hand on his shoulder in thanks. Hermione was truly a gem.

When she was out of the room Harry took a couple deep breaths. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous, Professor Lupin had never been anything other than very kind and supportive he really had no reason to worry. But the truth was, Harry wasn’t very accustomed to having going to an adult for help work out for him. It always ended up backfiring somehow. He just hoped it wouldn’t do this time. 

He prepared himself and then cleared his mind, thinking about what he was doing this for, his friendship with Draco…

“Expecto Patronum!” He said clearly.

His stag burst forward elegantly (Harry couldn’t help but wonder how such a graceful animal was supposed to represent him) and awaited his instructions, Harry spoke his message to the stag to repeat “Hi Professor Lupin, its Harry, but you know that from the stag I suppose. I wanted to ask you if you could please find the mirror Sirius had, the one he used to use in Hogwarts to talk to my dad. I have the other half and I really need to talk to you and I don’t think I can do it over the floo or by sending you an owl… I think he left the mirror shard at Grimmauld Place, since you know, he hadn’t really left there… ever. But thats not the point! I’ll try contact you with my end of the mirror on Friday night after dinner and everything. I hope you have your end by that time, but if you don’t I’m sure I’ll figure something else out.”

Harry stopped speaking, letting his patronus slowly fade out, groaning at his awkward attempt at sending a verbal message. It was worse than trying to leave a voice mail. He really needed to get better at this kind of thing. Eventually. 

 

***

Several days later Harry held in the palm of his hand, one piece of jagged, old mirror. 

“Remus Lupin” Harry said clearly, staring into the jagged piece of mirror.

“Harry!” Came Remus’ surprised response a moment later.

The werewolf’s bright amber eyes filled the reflection in Harry’s mirror before it was pulled back to reveal the smiling face of his former Professor. 

“Hello professor” Harry said brightly. He had always liked Professor Lupin and though he was happy to see him again, he immediately felt guilty for his lack of correspondence since Sirius’ death. 

Remus smiled gently, “Harry I haven’t been your professor for three years now, you can just call me Remus at this stage. But what can I do for you? How are you going?”

“Yeah I’m alright Remus, as good as can be expected I guess with everything going on…”

Remus nodded in understanding “I’m glad to hear it. Obviously I wish circumstances could be better but I’m glad you’re doing alright all things considered.”

“I did have a favour I wanted to ask of you though.” Harry asked.

“Anything Harry, what do you need?”

“Well, there’s a friend of mine who might be in a bit of trouble right now but doesn’t really have anywhere to go. I wanted to offer Grimmauld place for them to stay in if they need a hideaway but I don’t want to get in the way of the Order… or cause any problems. But I don’t know if I really have another option…”

“Harry the Order aren’t using Grimmauld place anymore.” Remus told him.

“You’re not?”

“No… Its your place now and really, I don’t think any of us felt comfortable being in Sirius’ old house after what happened… it just became easier to relocate. So given that its entirely your house, you can offer it to whomever you like, just remember its not the nicest place to stay…”

“Okay thats excellent! I’m sorry everyone had to relocate though, I wouldn’t have minded if you stayed… How are you doing after everything though?” Harry asked.

“I’m trying to stay busy, doing work for the Order has been helpful I guess. Its been hard, and some days are worse than others but I guess we have to face each day as they come don’t we?”

“Yeah… I guess we do…” Harry nodded sadly.

The two stayed uncomfortably silent for a moment, both lost in their memories of Sirius until Harry broke the silence again “listen, Professor Lupin?”

Remus smiled gently, “Harry, by this point you can just call me Remus you know?”

“Alright,” he nodded, “Remus… Do you think you could keep this conversation just between us?”

Remus studied him for a long minute before replying, “Yeah Harry of course, I trust your judgement.”

While Harry appreciated Remus doing him the favour of his confidence, he was surprised by his own reaction to the words. Harry had never really had another adult who trusted him implicitly before. Maybe Sirius, but in truth, Sirius hadn’t really known Harry very well. Harry had always been afraid of being too honest with him and prompting him to get himself caught and sent back to Azkaban. He hadn’t been able to have the kind of relationship with Sirius that he had always wanted. 

But Remus knew Harry, maybe not inside out, but enough that Harry was shocked not to have noticed before. Remus had been Harry’s teacher, he knew how he thought and they had spent a lot of time talking to each other while he was giving Harry patronus lessons. It struck Harry that in Remus Lupin he might potential have the guardian figure that he had always tried to find in Sirius. 

“Thank you Remus. I really appreciate it.” Harry said, his voice tight. 

“Anytime Harry. If there’s anything I can do to help, with anything, feel free to owl me or contact me through the mirror.”  
“Yeah, will do… and maybe, maybe we can just talk a bit, more often than we do now. You know, even when nothing is wrong.” He suggested, somewhat awkwardly.

Remus’ smile grew wider, and Harry noted the years that smile took off his face, “I would like that very much,” he told him. 

 

***

 

“Draco! Draco! Draco!” Harry called, running to meet him back in the Room of Requirement that night, “I did it! I got you a place to hide!”

Draco’s smile split his face widely at his friend’s enthusiasm. He barely heard Harry’s comment on finding a hiding place, though it did briefly register to him as something that should excite him, he was smiling because Harry was happy. He really should be more often.

Harry on the other hand, was bursting with the need to tell Draco everything. 

Sometimes in the mess of everything his life had become in the last year, or couple of years, or… in the time since his actual birth, Harry would find himself feeling hopeless, like there was no point in even trying to improve anything, that fighting wouldn’t be worth it because nothing ever went right for him. It was a pretty depressing thing to be thinking, but Harry couldn’t honestly deny that he felt it from time to time. So when he got a little victory, however small, he held onto it tightly to use as proof that sometimes, even just occasionally, things worked out, and maybe they could do so again. This would be one of the moments he would hold on to. 

“I found you a place to hide” Harry repeated. “I think our plan could actually work, we can get you out of here and to safety.”

Draco said nothing, simply raising an eyebrow to motion for Harry to continue. 

“My godfather, Sirius Black, he left me the Black family home when he died. I still own it and no one is using it. There’s no reason you can’t stay there, its safe, secure, hidden and no one would ever suspect you would be there! There’s a house elf and I’ll have to make pretty sure that he won’t say anything to anyone but he’s pretty obsessed with the Black family and with your mum being a Black he probably won’t need any convincing to want to help you out at all, come to think of it he will probably prefer to be helping you than me, he doesn’t like me at all…. But that won’t be an issue. What do you think?”

Draco thought it over, “the Black family home, do you mean Aunt Walburga’s house?”

“I don’t know… is Walburga Sirius’s mum?”

“Yes, she lived in Grimmauld Place”

“Thats the one!”

Draco perked up, he could deal with hiding out in a mannor home. Honestly, hiding out would probably be pretty boring, but boredom in luxury was something that he was willing to suffer through. “I remember visiting the home before my great aunt passed away, I’m quite happy to stay in Grimmauld Place if that works out, its a beautiful home.”

Harry shifted awkwardly, thinking back at the decaying, decrepit home, “Oh, well it might not be as… grand, as you remember. It has been completely empty since Sirius’ mum died and its fallen a bit into disrepair. Its still liveable though and I’m sure Kreacher will do his best to look after you.”

Draco’s eyes widened, “Kreacher is still alive?”

“You know Kreacher?”

“Of course I do. Even when I was a child, he was a very old elf, I am very surprised to hear that he’s still kicking along. I thought his head would have been added to the wall ages ago.”

Harry nodded, “Well he is completely ancient, thats true, but he’s very much still alive. His life’s ultimate ambition is to have his head cut off and put on that wall but its completely gross, not to mention horrible…. I won’t be doing that now that he’s technically my elf.”  
“You wouldn’t do that for him?” Draco asks, confused. Harry had always been a highly moralistic, headstrong person, not granting this favour to his elf seemed highly out of character.

“No! Of course not, I’m not going to kill the elf!” Harry exclaimed, not even wanting to consider what Hermione would think about it.

“You don’t kill the elf… You remove the head of the elf when he or she has already passed away… Do you not know that?”

“I don’t know anything about elves to be honest.” Harry admitted. 

Draco sighed, not entirely wanting to launch into a discussion on elf magic at the moment, but he couldn’t deny that he worried about the old elf. 

“Alright,” he began, “elves don’t use magic the same way humans do. Our magic comes from the air around us, we don’t exactly generate magic so much as manipulate the magic that already exists in the world to do what we want. Elves though, their magic is innate, it comes from their blood. Thats why elves can break anti apparition spells and things like that, their magic works too differently for humans to interfere with. When an elf dies, their head may be removed, it isn’t cut off like you’re picturing as a sort of elf murder, it is removed after death to allow their blood to drain back into the Earth. This means that the blood of elves becomes a part of the magic that humans and other magic wielding creatures use. A lot of other magic generating creatures do the same when they pass away, centaurs for example will drain the blood of deceased members of their herd. The heads of elves are sometimes mounted on the walls of old homes in order to serve as a reminder of all the elves whose magic is contributing to the home, its like thanking them for their contribution, its a bit like how some people might keep a stuffed version of a well loved pet. It is controversial and uncomfortable for some people, but ultimately its a sign that the elf was loved by its family and its supposed to be a reminder that its still with the family.”

Harry listened intently, Draco’s explanation sounding completely at odds with the cruel and barbaric practice he had understood it to be. 

“I thought it seemed horrible, not to bury them or do something a little more, I don’t know, a bit more humane.”

Draco sighed again, “see most magical children are taught about this kind of thing when they’re very young, its weird that you don’t know this stuff. A severed elf head in a house might look shocking to people who aren’t used to it, but its a point of pride for the elves and the families. Very few elves have their work shown off to wizards that they don’t serve, but when someone visits a home with heads on the wall they can actually feel the magical signature left behind by the elf. Their power and unique magical imprint is felt and appreciated by anyone who comes through the home. It isn’t meant to show off dead elves, its meant to remember ones that were living.” 

Harry mulled this explanation over a few times in his head. He wasn’t completely sure that he agreed with what Draco was explaining, the little Hermione voice he had in his head was shouting at him not to listen or be swayed by what Draco was saying. 

Honestly, he didn’t know what to think, but he thought maybe he knew Kreacher. He had always assumed that Kreacher hated him because he wasn’t a pureblood (and he didn’t doubt that his blood purity, or lack thereof, was still a part of it) but he wondered if his lack of knowledge about pureblood customs and his complete ignorance of what Kreacher was expecting from a person he was bound to was part of his problem. 

So in true Harry Potter fashion, Harry made a split second decision without giving it too much thought. 

“Kreacher!” He called.

It wasn’t long before the aged elf appeared beside them, glaring at Harry. “Master is calling Kreacher?”

“Yes, Kreacher, this is Draco Malfoy.” He said, gesturing to Draco. 

“Mistress Cissy’s boy?” Kreacher gasped, his entire demeanour shifting. He pulled himself up into a rigidly straight stance, his eyes wide with awe. He looked like a child who had been promised that if he was good he could pick out any sweet he wanted.   
“Pleasure to meet you Kreacher” Draco nodded.

Kreacher threw himself to the ground, tears threatening to spill past his overgrown eyes. “Master Malfoy the pleasure is being entirely Kreacher’s. Kreacher is honoured to be in your presence Young Master Malfoy.”

Honestly the whole display was pretty soppy, Harry decided, unable to suppress his second hand embarrassment from the situation. 

“Listen Kreacher, Draco here is going to come and stay at Grimmauld place soon.”

Kreacher released a loud wail of delight, “Kreacher will be telling his Mistress, oh Mistress will be overjoyed to have a son of the House of Black once again in the ancient and most noble home!”

“Would you like to be his elf while he is staying with us?” Harry asked. 

Kreacher stopped his blubbering almost immediately. He turned, more slowly than Harry had ever seen him move to face Harry, his eyes wide and unblinking, “Master is giving Kreacher leave to serve Master Malfoy?”

Draco had said nothing, unsure of where Harry was taking this, but he could see that Harry might be walking towards disaster. “Harry isn’t going to give you clothes Kreacher.” He said, smiling gently, “but he has been telling me how well you served aunt Walburga, and my mother always spoke highly of your service, and I was hoping you might lend me your services while I am at Grimmauld Place.”

“Kreacher is being honoured sir.” He whispered, his voice loudly conveying his awe. 

After a few moments in which they reminded the elf that he could tell no one, at all, about Draco’s impending ‘visit’ Kreacher disapperated with a pop. 

“You’ve just made Kreacher’s entire year” Harry smiled.

“Why did you do that?” 

“Well, for one thing, I’m really not comfortable with owning an elf and I think you’d be better at it. But more importantly, I want to make sure that you’re looked after while at Grimmauld, I don’t know when I’ll be able to see you once you’re there and at least if Kreacher is looking after you, which I’m sure he’ll do with more enthusiasm than he’s ever done anything, then at least I’ll know you won’t starve or anything.”

“Don’t be ridiculous Potter.” Draco laughed, but he was blushing a pleased, embarrassed flush at the thought of Harry worrying about him. That really shouldn’t feel quite so good.


	14. Chapter 14

True to his word, Harry had secured Draco a hiding place, meaning it was Draco’s responsibility to get himself a way out. As much as he wanted to get out of his situation, Draco couldn’t help but feel physically weighed down by his anxiety.

 

He still continued to work on the vanishing cabinet in any spare moment of time he had, just in case he failed at finding a way out. He had a lot to worry about, there was a good chance that something along the way would go wrong, that he would be found out for having ‘rebellious thoughts’, he could be caught once he had actually escaped, the safe home Harry was providing might not be as safe as expected, his parents might still be punished even if he was believed dead, the Dark Lord could find out that he had faked his death and he could get his family in more trouble than if he had failed in his mission in the first place. Hell, he could even miscalculate the necessary dose of Draught of the Living Death and accidentally kill himself. There was a lot that could go very wrong.

 

Yet, despite that, Draco was willing to risk it.

 

Maybe he really had lost his mind.

 

Either way, that now left him with a new challenge, figuring out how to get his hands on Draught of the Living Death. Obviously he could brew it but he had no idea when he might find the time. Also the chance that he would make a mistake in the brewing process was high…. his brewing in potions class wasn’t anywhere near its usual standards anymore. Stress and long term fatigue had seriously taken a toll on his marks and his faith in his own abilities. Brewing it himself would be a last resort.

 

Fortunately, they had brewed the potion in class earlier in the year, which meant that Slughorn likely had a stash of it somewhere in the potions stores. Old Sluggy had a reputation of keeping the well brewed potions to sell off, so the well made stuff from classes, and Slughorn’s own demonstration batches had to be somewhere in the castle.

 

He also knew that whenever a potions professor gave an assignment that was potentially dangerous, they were required to have antidotes on hand. So that had to be findable too.

 

The question was how to find it.

 

Draco had no issues whatsoever with the notion of stealing potions from Slughorn. He wasn’t evil but he would never claim to be as saintly as Harry. Maybe someday he would he kind of person to sneakily pay Slughorn for taking the potions or something, but honestly he didn’t feel at all guilty for taking them, in his view, a Potions Professor shouldn’t be selling off his student’s work for a profit, so this was a suitable punishment. He wouldn’t tell Harry about it though.

 

***

 

“Excuse me Professor?” Draco asked a few days later after classes, in as polite and innocent a voice as possible.Draco had never liked the has been professor, but he had been well trained on how to charm people like him. And of course, Slughorn was an absolute sucker for suck ups. Draco was willing to play the game if he had to.

 

As a teacher in Slytherin house Slughorn had to be available to the Slytherins to come to at any hour of the day for help, with anything they might decide they need his assistance with. And while the old Professor always insisted that he had that policy for students from every house, in an attempt to distance himself from his own students, it was the Slytherins who he technically couldn’t turn away. Lucky for Draco.

 

Annoyingly though, Draco knew he wouldn’t be forcing his presence upon the teacher, he needed his approval at the moment, though a part of him wanted nothing more than to barge in and demand that his concerns be seen to. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t do.

 

“Yes Mr Malfoy?” Slughorn asked, completely unsuspicious.

 

“I know I haven’t been doing as well in potions recently and I wanted to ask for a bit of extra assistance. There has been some family issues that have prevented me from being able to give as much focus on my schoolwork as I should have. I wish to remedy that but I worry that I have fallen too far behind already to make up for it.” He explained, pitching his voice deliberately to sound as pitiful as possible. He used his voice and body language as a precision instrument, the way he had always been taught. Weaponising people’s impression of him and their impression of who they wanted themselves to be was something Draco had always been exceedingly good at. Fortunately for him, Slughorn was falling for it hook, line and sinker.

 

“Mr Malfoy you really shouldn’t be so concerned, whatever is going on with you the effect is not as dramatic as you seem to think it is. You are still easily within the top five potions students in the school. To say that your marks have dramatically dropped isn’t fair. That being said, if you want any help and you are worrying about this then of course I can offer you additional support.” Slughorn said kindly.

 

“Thank you professor, I would really appreciate getting some help from such a revered potions master such as yourself.”

 

“Of course I am happy to assist a talented potions student such as yourself.” He smiled, appropriately flattered by Draco’s approach to him.

 

So Draco willingly sat through a long and painfully condescending tutoring session with Professor Slughorn. He knew that objectively the man wasn’t a bad teacher, but he struggled to avoid noticeably clenching his teeth at every name drop and unsubtle brag about some irrelevant accomplishment or other. As much as he was giving good potions advice, he was far more interested in talking about himself. You really had to concentrate to separate the relevant information from the incessant rubbish.

 

Luckily for Draco, he didn’t have to wait too long for his moment.

 

“So when doing any potions that require blood, be sure that you balance them out perfectly or they can become highly reactive and unpredictable. In school we try to avoid using too much blood based potions but if you want to make a career out of any potions based field they will come up a lot so its good to get it right. I still get letters from Glover Hipworth, you know, the potioneer who famously invented the pepper up potion?, he’s a very close personal friend of mine you know, he is always urging me to remind my students of this. Not that I would forget mind, I haven’t got a reputation for inspiring and mentoring generations of potions students of the highest standard for nothing.” Slughorn rambled, barely noticing Draco beside him.

 

“And how can you be certain that you’ve balanced it properly Professor?” Asked Draco, already fully aware of the answer.

 

“Well, the way we teach our students is obviously to be extremely careful and exact with measuring out their ingredients to lessen the chances of a dangerous reaction, but as you can well imagine, that is not a foolproof method. As you get more advanced you can use a drop of a measuring potion, specifically designed to be non reactive with whatever you’re making to double check your work. I think I might actually have some in the store room out the back…” Slughorn explained, “Perhaps you might want to pop in there for me to grab one which I might demonstrate with?” he asked, obviously not wanting to rise from his comfortable seat.

 

“Of course Professor” Draco agreed politely.

 

He got up and hurried into the potions store room. Technically students weren’t allowed in there, but Draco could count on Slughorn to disregard the rules in favour of not having to do any work.

 

Looking through the rows and rows of potions Draco quickly found the potion he had been sent in for, he grabbed it and kept looking. Slughorn, while obviously dodgy as a teacher, was meticulous in his store room, everything was orderly and well labeled. It didn’t take long to find the Draught of the Living Death and a vial of the antidote and slip them into his robe pocket.

 

Heart hammering in his chest, but face flawlessly expressionless, Draco returned to his charade of a tutoring session with Slughorn.

 

He remained there for over an hour.

 

If he were being more honest than he would ideally like to be, Draco would have admitted that some of Slughorn’s advice was actually useful and maybe even interesting. But that didn’t stop him from being completely relieved when he finally had the chance to flee.

 

Meeting wiht Slughorn that night had unfortunately taken away from the time he would ordinarily have spent with Harry. Technically he might have had time to squeeze in a brief visit with the Gryffindor but they had agreed before hand to take today off from the Come and Go room. Draco didn’t want to seem desperate.

 

Besides, he could entertain himself well enough without Harry’s company. He wasn’t completely pathetic. Really, he wasn’t.

 

Deflated, he returned to the dark of the Slytherin dorms. The dorms had intimidated the young Draco in his first year of school. He had grown up surrounded by the lush greenery of the grounds around the mannor, and while the mannor home itself was ancient, his mother had taken huge pride in decorating the inside to be warm and inviting, an atmosphere few expected from the Malfoys. The change had been a shock to the system as a child, but now that Draco was older, he found a certain kind of coziness in the dungeon.

 

Curling up in his comfortable green sheeted bed, Draco continued his study. He had found, with somewhat concerning ease, a book on Draught of the Living Death and its impacts on drinkers. It was a potion studied in class, so it did make sense for it to be readily available at the library, but as with all things magical, Draco was only too aware of the more nefarious uses for the potion.

 

Making careful notes as he read, Draco concentrated on calculating how much of the potion he would need to drink to get into a deep enough, and more importantly, convincing enough sleep without actually dying or going into a magically induced coma.

 

Should he go into a magical coma he would have to leave instructions for Harry to attempt to revive him as the antidote would be past the point of which it can be helpful anymore.

 

He also needed enough antidote to wake him up fully from his sleep, and allow him to return to usual functioning without his organs shutting down completely due to a too sudden change in his magical composition. It was, put simply, a very risky plan.

 

Taking a few deep breaths Draco focused on trying to stop himself from surrendering to his overwhelm. The fear of something going wrong, the fear of what happens next if it goes right, the crushing guilt of what he was going to be putting his family through. He didn’t have time to deal with any of it.

 

He decided in an instant to keep the book and leave it among his other belongings. The stuff he didn’t bring on his escape (which would have to be minimal to avoid suspicion) would be returned to his parents. If they saw and found the book and his few missing possessions they might at least suspect what he had done. It wouldn’t be enough to prove that he was alive, besides, showing them that outright would be far too dangerous. But he could leave them with just a small seed of hope. That much he decided he could get away with. If Dumbledore cared as much about securing his safety as Harry insisted that he did, surely he wouldn’t mind surrendering a single library book for the sake of Draco’s state of mind.

 

With one problem at least somewhat resolved he moved on to his further calculations.

 


	15. Chapter 15

It was sudden and all at once that Draco realised his world was going to change forever. He was, as usual, lurking through the Come and Go room, tinkering with the Vanishing Cabinet. Though he would deny it to anyone involved in the Death Eaters’ inner circle, the cabinet had been operational for a few days now. Draco was spending his time pretending to look for bits that need fixing and fiddling with imaginary loose ends. He wanted to delay its use by as long as possible.

 

He supposed that having such thoughts would tempt any version of the fates. So he wasn’t too surprised the day Harry came bursting into the Come and Go Room, eyes wide with panic.

 

“Draco” He breathed desperately as he approached. Draco was certain that it was the urgency of the situation that made his stomach flip at the sound.

 

He didn’t reply, and Harry, bless him, allowed him a moment longer to feign ignorance of what was about to happen. For one more brief second Draco was allowed his denial.

 

None of this was real, it wasn’t happening. The war was a far away thing that would never affect him directly. It wasn’t even really a war, just politics. Everything was going to be just fine.

 

Except it wasn’t.

 

“I’m leaving with Dumbledore in a few minutes, he has found a Horcrux and we are going to try and destroy it.” Harry said finally, shattering what remained of the illusion.

 

Though he had been expecting it, though he had known by the look on Harry’s face that no other news was coming, hearing the words he had been dreading for months being finally said aloud forced the breath from Draco’s lungs.

 

In an instant he was lightheaded and struggled to form words. “You know what this means don’t you?” He asked, pointlessly. Of course Harry knew.

 

“Do you really have to call them?” Harry asked, senselessly pleading.

 

It was comforting, in a way, to have a friend who was equally willing to play the game of denial. It was as though Harry had memorised the script Draco’s mind was writing up for him. Yes, just for a moment longer, lets pretend. I love to pretend. Lets spend our lives pretending. Lets run away together and just pretend its not happening.

 

If only.

 

“You know I do” Draco told him, playing along,“I have to inform the Death Eaters when the headmaster is out of the castle, if anyone were to find out that Hogwarts was unattended and I didn’t tell anyone about it, you know what the consequences would be.”

 

Of course he did.

 

The consequences of not following through with his orders were the exact consequences that had been hanging over his head the entire year. The death of himself and his family- likely not in a merciful or quick fashion. Tonight was the night he had been counting down to all year, the night where he might end up brutally murdered.Hell, there was even a chance that the Dark Lord wouldn’t et a chance to kill him, he might accidentally commit suicide in his attempt to escape.

 

The reality he had been trying so desperately not to acknowledge descended on him instantly and visciously.

 

There was a genuine, more than fifty percent chance that he wouldn’t see tomorrow.

 

Tonight, on this random, entirely insignificant night, Draco Malfoy may cease to exist.

 

As might Lucius Malfoy.

 

And Narcissa Malfoy.

 

In effect, there was a strong likelihood that tonight, the Malfoy family line, that had extended back to the time of Merlin himself, and had been a fixture of the Wizarding world for hundreds of years, might finally be banished to history. The entire family, gone. Forever.

 

Draco had always taken comfort in the lineage of his family. He had often times expressed that comfort in a way that had been cruel, as though his ancestry made him superior to others. But the truth was, beneath it all, Draco felt connected to history through his family. Every major change in the wizarding world had been witnessed by Malfoys. And he had always assumed that once he fulfilled his duty and produced his own heir, that Malfoys would witness all future wizarding events as well. To Draco, being a Malfoy was as much a part of him as being a wizard was.

 

And yet… it might all end here.

 

He hadn’t noticed that as his thoughts spiralled he stopped seeing Harry in front of him. His vision swam before him. His fingers lost their sensation. His hearing seemed to distort.

 

Vaguely he was aware of Harry trying to talk to him.

 

Harry for his part, was also freaking out. He was terrified to go searching for the Horcruxes and worried about Draco (Draco, he would later discover, hadn’t been entirely forthcoming about the level of danger in his plan). He noticed immediately that Draco was becoming lost to another panic attack, but, though it made him the worst person in the world, he really didn’t have time.

 

He tried calling out his name “Draco? Draco! DRACO! Come on, listen to me!”

 

Dark eyes with overblown pupils stared back at him, tears threatening to spill at any moment. He gave no indication that he was listening, but continued to stare, rooted to the spot.

 

“Draco please listen to me. I want to stay here with you and promise you that everything is going to be okay. I want that so badly. But I can’t. I am so sorry. Draco, after tonight, its all over. All of it. You will be safe and away and you don’t have to involve yourself any further in any of this mess of a war. But I have to go, I have my own shit I have to go and cope with right now so you need to tell me that you’ll be alright. I can’t go otherwise.” Harry begged.

 

“What about you though?” Draco finally asked, quietly.

 

“I don’t have a choice,” Harry sighed, understanding immediately what Draco had been referring to, “it can’t be over for me because honestly, I think its only just beginning for me. But you, you don’t have to be involved. You have a choice. Take it!”

 

“I want to help you”

 

“Draco, do you have any idea how much I wish I was in your position? To have the option to chose not to fight? If I can’t make that choice, you should do it for both of us.”

 

“If both of us don’t have that opportunity, I will stay and help you for as long as I can until we are both able to walk away.” Draco declared, his voice growing stronger.

 

Harry sighed, he didn’t have time to argue any of it. On one hand, he was deeply touched that Draco would offer such a thing. On the other, he felt uncomfortable enough with Ron and Hermione being willing to follow him into such a crazy future, he felt horribly guilty about his own desire to take Draco up on his offer.

 

“Listen, we’ll make a deal okay? WHEN you are totally fine after today, then we will talk about you helping out and getting involved in this mess.”

 

Draco said nothing, but nodded decisively.

 

Harry took a deep breath, preparing himself to leave and face whatever this Horcrux hunt would throw at him, before he got up though he reached into his pocket, “here” he said, slipping a small potions vial into Draco’s hand “take this. Its the Felix Felicis I won at the start of the year, I’ve already had half of it, but the rest should last you through to tomorrow.”

 

“But you need it” Draco protested.

 

Harry shook his head “I need to know that you’ll be safe. If you have luck on your side I can concentrate on what I’m doing with Dumbledore. Trust me, you’re the person who needs this the most right now.”

 

Before he left he pulled Draco into what he absolutely refused to think of as a last hug. Neither of them said a word but gripped each other fiercely silently pleading for the other to live to see tomorrow.

 

With a heavy and rapidly pounding heart, Harry turned to go.

 

As he exited the Room of Requirement he pulled his two way mirror from his pocket and called for Remus Lupin.

 

“Harry?” Remus asked, confused to be receiving a call from the mirror out of the blue. “Is everything okay?”

 

Harry took a deep breath, “No, not really. You need to round up whatever Order members you can get your hands on and bring them to Hogwarts. The castle is going to be attacked tonight.”

 

“Attacked?” Remus asked, caught off guard (as you would be) “What do you mean?”

 

“Dumbledore and I are leaving the castle, it will be unprotected. Its the perfect time for someone to try and attack the school”

 

Remus exhaled in relief, which seemed to confuse Harry before he said, “Harry don’t worry. The Order always has a few people stationed at the school and I think this year you even have aurors stationed in Hogsmede. So if anything does happen, which is far less likely than you think, there will be people there to respond. But honestly Harry, I highly doubt there will be any kind of attack, even without Dumbledore the castle has pretty strong fortifications. If anyone wanted to get in they would have to get through all that first. Hogwarts isn’t a great target for Death Eaters, they want an easy in and out, not to have to break though countless spells and protective enchantments, risk exposure and then potentially harm one of their own children. Its too great a risk.” He explained.

 

Harry raked his hand through his hair, he really didn’t have time for this. “Remus.” He snapped, frustrated, “I know for a fact that there is a plan to bring Death Eaters into the castle tonight by sneaking around the wards. I also know that they have specifically been waiting until Dumbledore was out of the castle to carry out their plan, so you have to trust me when I say that the castle needs extra protection!”

 

“Harry?” Remus asked gently, “is this a plan you’re believing because another one of those visions? Because you remember last time, when you went to the Ministry to try and find Sirius? Sometimes your visions aren’t as accurate as you think they are.”

 

In an instant Harry recoiled like he had been slapped.

 

He needed desperately to get back to Dumbledore to go and try destroy an actual piece of Voldemort’s actual soul and he was being held up by being reminded that it was his fault his godfather was dead. His fault because of his own stupidity.

 

Thanks Remus.

 

“No.” Harry said slowly, with a deadly quietness to his voice. “This isn’t like when I went and got Sirius killed.”

 

“Harry that’s not what-“ Remus sputtered, trying to back peddle.

 

Harry didn’t let him finish, plowing through over him “I actually heard people talking about the plan. In person. I don’t have time to argue with you though. I really have to get going, Dumbledore is waiting for me. But as far as I see it, you just have to decide if you trust me or not. But if my word isn’t enough then maybe ask yourself if you would rather bring the rest of the Order here and have it be for nothing, or find out that I was right and that no one came here to protect the kids who would become casualties. They’ll be coming in through the Room of Requirement, do with that information whatever you want. I have to go.”

 

Remus was visibly stunned, “You can’t ask Dumbledore not to go, I don’t see that he would actually leave the castle as undefended as you’re making it sound?”

 

“He doesn’t believe me that the threat is as significant as it is.”

 

“Okay Harry” Remus finally said, “I’ll gather up whoever I can and get to the castle as soon as possible.”

 

“Thank you” Harry breathed, before pocketing the mirror and sprinting back to the Headmaster’s office.

 

He was panting by the time he arrive and Dumbledore was standing in front of his desk, waiting patiently.

 

“Harry my boy!” He exclaimed happily, “I wondered for a moment if you might have changed your mind.”

 

“No sir, I’m sorry sir, I just got held up.” Harry tried to explain.

 

“No matter, we still have plenty of time.” Dumbledore smiled, waving off Harry’s apology. “Before we leave however, I need you to promise me something.”

 

Harry noted the change in the Headmaster instantaneously. The signature twinkle in his eye was completely gone, leaving him looking surprisingly harsh and intimidating. He was also not smiling which added to his cold and aloof appearance. Harry listened closely.

 

“I will take you with me tonight on the condition that you will obey any instruction I give you at once, and without question.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“I need you to appreciate what I mean by that Harry. I mean if I tell you to ‘run’, ‘hide’ or ‘go back’, you will follow the instruction immediately. Can you promise that?”

 

“Yes sir,” Harry agreed after a moment’s hesitation.

 

“If I tell you to hide, will you do so?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“If I tell you to flee, will you do so?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“If I tell you to leave me, and save yourself, you will?” He asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

 

Harry wanted to protest. How could he be asked that? Surely he wouldn’t actually be expected to leave the Headmaster in danger and do nothing to help him. “But-“

 

“Harry” He pressed, firmly.

 

“Okay sir.” Harry conceded.

 

With a single nod Dumbledore turned and the two turned to leave the castle.

 

 

***

 

 

Elsewhere Draco took a deep, shuddering breath and forced himself to press a single finger down onto the image burned into this forearm.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have been receiving some absolutely wonderful comments this week and to everyone who has taken the time to leave a comment or some kudos I want to say a huge thank you! You guys are the best :)

It was only minutes later before the doors to the Vanishing Cabinet were opening menacingly. Draco stood silently, ready to greet the arrivals and trying with all his might not to vomit at their feet. 

His Aunt Bellatrix was one of the first to come through, after Fenir Greyback who had, (most revoltingly) given him a deep sniff as he passed, licking his teeth as he eyed him. Draco had stood paralysed, unable to turn and run, unable to say anything in response. He meerly allowed himself to be openly ogled by the vile creature. After him the arrival of his derranged and lethal dear Auntie was almost a relief. 

He never understood how Bellatrix could possibly be his mother’s bilogical sister. There surely had never been two sisters more dissimilar from one another. Though both possessed a cold sort of beauty, Bellatrix was enchanting in the way that a well made sword or dagger might be. She was sharp, hard and deadly but to many that danger and sharpness was what they wanted. Narcissa on the other hand was more akin to snow on a field. Cold, yes, but inviting, innocent and shining. They were both opposite again from their other sister, the never spoken of Andromeda. She was in possession of a kind of beauty that neither of her other sisters had, she had been warm. Though she had been more of the dark colouring that Bellatrix boasted, Andromeda had been sunshine, fireplaces and freshly made bread. Narcissa had always yearned to be so inviting. 

Draco disagreed though, whenever he saw his aunt he couldn’t help but be reminded of his mother. He had never called her ‘mum’ or ‘mummy’ the way other kids did, but ‘mother’ had always been just as homey and comforting to the young Draco as any other name. 

As he stared at his aunt, her wand raised permanently aloft as she sneered in his direction, he thought of mother and his resolve hardened. 

“Very well done Draco.” Bellatrix praised. 

Though he had never agreed with his aunt’s philosophy, there was a small part of him that had always wanted his aunt’s approval. She had a way of making everyone around her seem small and insignificant and Draco had made it his goal to be the exception. Now that he was on the receiving end of even the smallest morsel of her approval Draco’s stomach rolled. He couldn’t quite meet her eye as he smiled a false smile of thanks. 

Somehow a compliment from Bellatrix Lestrange felt more insulting than the most devastating and cruel insult from anyone else. What an awful party trick. 

Bellatix, in their master’s absence, naturally took the lead on the operation, welcoming each new arrival personally, as though she had been the one to orchestrate their break in. 

It didn’t bother Draco though, he didn’t want the credit. 

It took only a few gut wrenching minutes for all the Death Eaters to sucessfully make their way through the Vanishing Cabinet and file into the Come and Go room. Far too quickly, they became antsy and were ready to take on the rest of the castle. 

Bellatrix led the way, throwing open the room’s large mahogany doors with her wand held high, ready to begin casting at any unfortunate soul who happened upon them. The others followed.

Wintin an instant they were being fired upon. 

Though Draco had been expecting that the Order of the Phoenix would be trying to stop his aunt and their cohort, and had in fact been relying on their intervention the immediacy of the assault caught him by surprise. Within seconds of steping out of the Come and Go Room Draco was firing spells left, right, and centre with no idea whatsoever where they were landing or if they were hitting anyone. Moreso, he didn’t know if he wanted them to hit anyone. 

Naturally he was instincitvely driven to defend himself, but at the same time, he dreaded thr thought of hurting anyone. Instead of doing either, Draco fired sparks wherever people seemed to be closing in on him. They appeared threatening enough to anyone who didn’t hear what he was casting, and seemed to keep people at enough of a distance to remain cautious, but would be harmless should they accidentally hit a target. 

In the midst of the skirmish Draco searched desperately for a moment where no eyes would be on him. Unfortunately, for the Order of the Phoenix he was a dangerous enemy who had allowed Death Eaters into the castle and was an immediate threat to them, so they were watching him closely. For the Death Eaters, he was an obvious flight risk. They knew that he was assigned to this mission as a punishment and likely had no faith at all that he would see it to completion. They were right of course, but it was still frustrating that they thought so.

He was given less than a second of a window which he grabbed in an instant as Aunt Bellatrix screeched in outrage and cast the Dark Mark into the air above the castle. The vile spell, as well as the terror of what would accompany it, momentarily turned all eyes away from the young man. Order members watched in mesmerised horror as the familiar skull and snake symbol made its way through the celing, traversing its way into the sky above. Draco swallowed down the vial of potion that had been hidden in his breast pocket and had only a second to dispose of the vial by banishing spell before he collapsed to the ground. 

From then on, Draco was unaware of any proceeding, but he would later reflect that it was a small mercy that he had been forced to act so quickly. Had he been given any larger a window of opportunity he would surely have disolved into complete panic, at the time though, he hadn’t had time to think, to worry, or to question, he had just followed his plan, concequences be damned. 

And so they were. 

In the meanwhile Harry and Dumbledore were flying madly towards the castle, having watched the Dark Mark take its form in the air above the castle. Knowing what the Mark meant Harry forced the broom to fly faster, pushing it past its limit, horrified that someone may have died in the castle in their absense. 

Dumbledore was not faring well, the poison he had consumed left his girp on Harry’s waist distressingly weak. His head was lolled forward, his eyes unfocused as he struggled to maintain conciousness. 

Harry’s mind was reeling, he was still struggling to banish the view of a hundred infiri approaching and trying to drown him, he was terribly worried about Dumbledore, he wanted to know what was happening with his friends and overall, he just wanted, above all else for everything to stop for a moment. If something more happened to add to his stress he was sure to explode with the pressure of it all. But right now, he had to deliever the Headmaster to the school. Then find Draco. Those were the priorities. 

The broom skidded to a rough halt once Harry burst through the window of the astronomy tower. Though Harry and the Headmaster were alone in the empty classroom, they could both hear the thundering of footsteps approaching. Harry turned to the older man, desperate for instruction. 

Without saying a word, Dumbledore threw the invisibitily cloak onto Harry and cast a silent spell which froze him to his position. 

In a silent struggle, Harry tried to thrash and scream against his invisible restraints, to no avail. He could only watch with wide, paniced eyes as none other than Bellatrix Lestrange, Severus Snape and Fenir Greyback entered the room.

Bellatrix was smirking manically, a thrilled, self satisfied expression crossing her face as she closed the door behind them, trapping the Headmaster into the room. 

Harry watched her closely, acutely aware of his inability to defend himself. Should something alert Bellatrix to his presence, she could do whatever she wanted to him, there would be nothing he could do about it.

There she stood, the woman who killed Sirius, who tortured Neville’s parents into insanity and who tormented Draco. There were very few people in his life in fact who hadn’t been in some way affected by Bellatrix Lestrange. She was the quintessential Death Eater, fanatical, unrepentant and completely insane. Harry’s heart pounded so hard in his chest at the mere sight of her that he worried the new arrivals to the room would be able to hear it. He could feel sweat dripping down his face and every instinct in him screamed for him to get out as fast as he could. But he couldn’t. He was immobilised. Fucking magic. 

“Hello” Dumbledore greeted pleasantly. 

He showed every sign of the exhaustion from their mission, he was worn out and for the first time Harry thought he actually looked like a 150 year old. Despite that, he spoke like he was greeting old friends, not a small sample of some of the most dangerous witches and wizards in Britain. It was horrible.

“Expelliarmus!” Snape snapped instead of answering. The Headmaster’s wand jerked out of his hand without even an attempt to hold onto it. 

Harry’s eyes widened in alarm. Dumbledore was famous for his duelling skills, he was practically undefeated and in an instant, in less than a second, he was defenceless. 

That was the problem with magic, Harry supposed. As soon as your wand was out of your reach, you were pretty much defenceless. Wandless magic was possible of course, and Harry supposed Dumbledore was powerful enough to be talented at it, but an opponent with a wand would always have a huge advantage. Even Dumbledore, with all his skill, wouldn’t be a match for so many wanded Death Eaters.

Harry’s panic began to rise. He strained, muscles tensing desperately, trying to break the immobilisation. It was no use though. All he could do was watch. 

Dumbleore showed no signs of such a panic though. He just smiled at Severus as though he had just told a particularly clever joke. “How are you tonight Severus? I must confess I am surprised to see you here.”

“He wouldn’t need to be here if Draco could have handled his mission on his own” Bellatrix sneered nastily. 

“Oh?” Inquired the headmaster curiously, as if this was the first he was hearing about Draco’s involvement in anything nefarious, “where is the young Mr. Malfoy? I don’t see him among your company tonight.”

Fenir Greyback let out a bark like laugh, “Little bugger wasn’t up for the job was he? All it took was one skirmish in the halls and he was out for the count wasn’t he?” 

The others joined in his amused laughter. 

“Was he injured?” Dumbledore asked, for the first time dropping his pleasant facade. 

“Dead. Isn’t that right Bella?” 

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, “yeah, I reckon so. I checked his body out myself. No pulse, no breathing, there’s no coming back from that.”

“Thats terrible Bellatrix, your own nephew, you must be devastated.”

It occurred to Harry, amidst his rage at the casual tone in which they were discussing his friend’s ‘death’ that Dumbledore didn’t know anything about their plan, nor did Snape, who looked equally disturbed. They both likely thought Draco had genuinely died. The thought of it made Harry’s stomach twist unpleasantly, he wondered what affect it was having on the Professor and Headmaster.

“Devastated? Oh no Professor” She mocked in a high pitched voice before breaking into her signature cackle. “I always knew Cissy’s boy wasn’t up to it. She was so worried about him, she was inconsolable when Draco was given his mission - As if it were a bad thing that her son was being honoured by our Lord! Sacrificing one son to our cause ought to make her feel proud, and if it doesn’t she deserves to lose him as punishment for her lack of loyalty to the cause!!” 

Throughout her rant Harry’s eyes were trained on Snape. His brows were pinched together tightly, though beyond that he seemed completely reactionless. Harry’s teeth ground together angrily in frustration, Draco deserved a godfather who would show at least some level of sadness at his death. Harry thought back to Sirius, at how worried he was at the thought of Harry being in any kind of danger, Draco deserved that. He needed someone who would worry about him, someone who could do more for him than his parents could. His heart ached for him. 

Lost in his thoughts, Harry hadn’t noticed that Bellatrix was still talking. “I was devastated the day that Cissy told us she was marrying Lucius. She could have been great as a Death Eater, but no! She wanted to be a wife and have little blond babies with the man she “loved”- it was disgusting! Maybe now that the runt is out of the picture Cissy might actually make something of herself. Lucius is as useless as his son, but without Draco to dote on and give an inheritance to I see no reason that Cissy will want to keep him around. All in all, I guess its a good thing he’s gone.”

“It troubles me,” Dumbledore murmured, after a long silence, “how little you understand your sister. Draco was the most important person in her life, for her to accept his death happily would be impossible for her. This could well destroy Narcissa.”

“Then let her be destroyed.” Bellatrix shrugged.

“For Merlin’s sake Bella!” Cried the werewolf, “I thought we came here for a reason, not just to play family catch up with a deranged old man! Do we really need to stand around gossiping all night or can we get down to fucking business?”

“You are absolutely right Fenir. Lets get to it. Severus!” She snapped.

Harry had never seen anyone bark orders at the Potions master before, and it seemed that he very much did not appreciate it. 

Snape’s lip curled back in a perfect, cruel sneer. 

“Well Headmaster, any last words?” He asked, his wand pointed directly at the old man’s face.

Harry’s heart was pounding wildly in his chest, adrenaline was pumping furiously through his veins with nowhere to go. Dumbledore was wandless, standing against the open window frame, wand pointed to his face. For the first time it really hit Harry that the Headmaster, his own semi father figure, his mentor, his teacher, he might genuinely not have a way out of this. 

Harry had always taken for granted that Dumbledore could do anything, that he was always five steps ahead of everyone else. That he had a plan. 

The man had just drank an entire bowl full of poison and got up to fight off an army of infiri! Surely he could get out of this. He had to!

But the Headmaster didn’t seem to do anything at all. He regarded Severus sadly, “I suppose my last words shall be, that we must use moments like these, like all that have transpired tonight, to strengthen our resolve, and our commitment to doing what is right.” 

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, but no one paid any attention to her.

Even the gathered Death Eaters seemed to be acutely aware of the magnitude of the situation unfolding before them. Albus Dumbledore was 150 years old, and had been a teacher for most of his working life. There were few wizards and witches educated in Britain who hadn’t been in some way impacted by the old man. Though the Death Eaters had no love for the Headmaster, he had nevertheless been a constant in their lives. He had been someone that they always knew would be around, though they had never been enthused about it. Even for them, the removal of Albus Dumbledore from the wizarding world would change if forever. 

They watched in stunned silence. 

Severus’ wand remained pointed at his own mentor’s face. He knew, he had known for months now, that this horrible responsibility would soon fall to him. He had pushed it aside and refused to consider what it would feel like to end the life of the wizard before him. But now it was no longer an abstract thought to be dealt with another day. The reality of the moment was staring right back at him.

Seconds ticked past, each feeling like an eternity, though no one, not even Bellatrix, seemed to have the courage to break the moment. 

So it fell to the only Gryffindor in the room still capable of speech, to push through the stillness and force them all into what they weren’t quite ready to face yet. 

“Severus, please.”

“AVADA KEDAVRA”


	17. Chapter 17

In a haze, Harry wandered through the castle, his mind barely aware of where his feet were leading him. He saw the fighting happening around him, spells and hexes shot past him cutting frighteningly close to hitting him. But he didn’t react. He walked through the middle of the fight like he was in a dream. Vaguely, some part of his conciousness tried to impress upon him the danger he was in, but he was past listening. He was past fear. He felt weighted down by the heaviness of the emotions that fought for dominance within him; fear, betrayal, anger, grief. They all blurred together into an oppressive weight that slowed his mind and body.

Around him he recognised Professor McGonagall locked in a duel with a Death Eater Harry didn’t recognise, various other Order members were similarly deep in the thick of the action, it occurred to him in a moment that if the Death Eaters were here fighting, then Snape was likely still in the castle somewhere.

Still only half conscious of his own movements and thoughts, Harry sprung into action. 

“Remus?” He shouted, grabbing his former Professor’s attention when the Death Eater he had been fighting collapsed to the ground. “Have you seen Snape?”

Remus was panting, covered in sweat, grime and any number of other things you wouldn’t want to be covered with, “yes,” he nodded after a moment to catch his breath, “he ran past here a few minutes ago, heading for the outside gates.”

Without replying Harry broke into a sprint. 

He was lucky that he had always been faster than he looked, Harry was able to tear through the castle barely aware as he skidded around corners, and through short cuts in narrow halls. He had spent so long studying the Marauder’s Map through the years that he knew the secret passages and short cuts through the school like the back of his hand. Despite this though, he only just made it to the walls of the castle in the nick of time. 

“Expelliarmus!” Harry cried desperately, hurling his wand forward towards Snape. 

He was tired, worn out and highly emotional, it was the worst possible combination for spell casting and logically Harry knew it. Nevertheless he was furious to see that Snape was able to maintain a solid grip on his wand. 

“Murderer!” Harry accused, “he trusted you and you murdered him!”

Severus eyed up the hysterical teen boy before him. Though truthfully he couldn’t have expected any other reaction, the force of the boy’s fury still shocked him. 

“Back off Potter, we’ve done what we came to do and now we’re leaving.” He said with a cruel and detached voice. As though Harry were simply behaving like a school boy acting up rather than an emotionally distraught young man being forced to play soldier. 

“No! You killed him! I saw you!” Harry fumbled desperately for something to say, he hadn’t thought out what he would do if he actually caught up with Snape and his lack of preparedness was showing through quite remarkably. “You killed him, now I’ll kill you” he said, not even aware enough of his own words to be shocked by them.

Severus however, was. 

He paused for a brief moment to regard the teen boy before him. Threatening murder. It was obvious of course that he wouldn’t do it. He wasn’t even able to control his magic enough right now to disarm him, yet alone kill him. But it struck him at once that while Harry wouldn’t be capable of killing Severus, it wouldn’t be long before murder was being asked of him. 

For the first time he wondered if Harry would be able to go through with it. 

Draco, he knew, would never have been able to complete his mission, though his heart clenched painfully at the thought. If a boy like Draco, who ran the risk of losing his family, his life, his whole world, couldn’t kill to save it all, what hope was there that someone like Harry, who had very little to stay for, have?

He knew of Albus’ plan, though he had voiced his disagreement to it many times. Albus believed wholeheartedly that Harry would be able to do what was expected of him. That he loved his friends enough to stay to the end to protect them.

But for the first time Severus was truly struck with the realisation of how disgusting a thing to hope for that was. Seeing Harry before him Severus couldn’t help but see him as a child, a sixteen year old who was traumatised by the world collapsing around him. Wasn’t it sick to hope this boy might find the mental fortitude to kill someone? To cross your fingers and pray that one day he would find the strength to add to his trauma? 

It was awful. 

Whenever Severus saw Harry he saw James. That much was true and undeniable. It was also true and undeniable that Severus HATED James Potter. Which is why it shocked him so much to feel himself become suddenly overwhelmed by pity for the boy. 

Because that’s exactly what he saw when he looked at Harry Potter in that moment. He saw a boy. Not a man, a warrior or a hero, he saw a child who had tears running freely down his face, who had the weight of the world on his shoulders and was struggling not to collapse from underneath it. Harry was only sixteen years old, small for his age, but even if he wasn’t, he couldn’t be considered an adult yet, he shouldn’t be asked to bear the burdens he was being asked to accept. But tonight he was given one more, he was made to carry the weight of witnessing a murder. A murder that he purposefully had no ability to prevent. 

It was anyone’s guess how he was even still standing. Severus didn’t know if he would have been if he had been in Harry’s position at that age. 

He looked into the tread stained face of his student and gazed directly into the green eyes that broke his heart and muttered “I’m sorry”. 

Before giving Harry a second to react, he grabbed Bellatrix’s wrist and apparated them away. 

Harry stilled. 

He had apologised. 

It didn’t bring back the headmaster, of course it didn’t. Nothing would. But Harry had gone to the former potions master expecting a fight, a confrontation, anything at all. Instead he got an apology. 

With no idea at all of what to do with that Harry stood and stared at the spot that Snape and Bellatrix had disappeared. He didn’t think, didn’t move, didn’t do anything at all. He just stood. And stared. 

Eventually Remus found him, standing alone, not noticing his own body trembling violently against the cold. 

“Harry?” He asked cautiously. “Are you okay?”

Harry said nothing. 

“I wanted to thank you for the tip, and apologise for not believing you sooner. The Order of the Phoenix were able to prevent a lot more damage being done and I think we are all extremely grateful that you made sure we would be there.”

He approached Harry carefully, taking in his bloodshot eyes, his trembling figure and slowly reached out a hand to rest on his shoulder, hoping to comfort him.

In an instant Harry pulled Remus closer, taking a forceful hug and scrunching his eyes shut tight. 

Remus hugged him back, startled, but willing to go along with what Harry needed in the moment. 

They stood that way for a while, with Harry seeming to draw strength from the support he was receiving from Remus. After some time, Remus decided it was safe to speak, “What happened?” He asked gently.

“Dumbledore... He’s dead.”

Remus exhaled deeply, “I know Harry, we found his body after the fighting cleared up. I’m so sorry.”

“I saw it happen.”

Remus’ heart clenched, “oh Harry.” He tightened his hug. 

“It was Snape.”

Remus said nothing. What was there to say? 

Instead the pair lapsed back into silence, both trying to process the new information they had been given. 

“Was anyone else hurt?” Harry asked, terrified of the answer. 

He felt Remus nod against his head, “Bill Weasley, he was attacked by Fenir Greyback.... he’s okay, perfectly stable and alive, but he’s going to have scars.”

“I- I- I might have been able to help” Harry muttered, running though the events of the night in his head, looking for a place where he might have been able to act differently. 

He hadn’t even known Bill was in the castle, yet alone fighting and injured. But he had been the one to ask the Order to come and help, Bill had only been there because he’d asked. It was his fault. 

On the other hand, a more reasonable part of his brain argued, if the Order hadn’t arrived who knew what the Death Eaters could have done in the school with no opposition. Draco had told him that they were coming, someone needed to be there to fight them...

Oh Merlin. 

Draco.

Since seeing the Headmaster die, thoughts of Draco had evacuated his mind. Was he okay? Had the plan worked? It was all too much, surely he should only have to deal with one majorly stressful event at a time, wasn’t that only fair?

Remus saw Harry sway dangerously on his feet, and grabbed onto his shoulder to keep him from keeling over. 

“Let’s get you back to your common room. I think you need to get some sleep. We will figure out everything in the morning.” 

Harry obediently followed Remus back through the castle. 

It was weird, somehow it felt a though the castle knew its headmaster was gone. Everything felt noticeably different, like when you walk into an abandoned home, or into a public building after closing hours. For the first time in Harry’s memory the castle felt eerie and unwelcoming. 

When he arrived back in the Gryffindor common room he was immediately engulfed in a hug from Ron and Hermione. The latter of whom looked at a complete loss of what to do. She looked Harry up and down and had no idea how to begin fixing the situation. 

Hermione was an only child, but she also spent most of her early years with no friends at all, socialising wasn’t her forte. Usually with her boys, being social followed predicable patters, she knew what to say and how to say it, she knew how to behave around them, it was comfortable. But what do you say to someone who looked so deeply disturbed, exhausted and grief stricken. After the Triwizard Tournament Harry had been immediately swept away and taken to the hospital wing. By the time Hermione and Ron were allowed anywhere near him he was much more receptive to visitors. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, wondering what she could say to make things better. To ask what happened. To offer a solution. To do something other than sit in silence. 

Ron on the other hand, was far more equipped to deal with the situation. He grew up surrounded by other people, and while only Ginny had experienced genuine trauma, he had seen heightened emotions more times than he could count. His friends and siblings were often angry and upset about one thing or another. He knew that Hermione tended to lack tact in some of these situations and would be itching to make Harry talk about it. But that was the last thing he would want. 

“Come on mate, you should head up, have a shower and just get to bed.”

He wasn’t sure why, but Harry complied. He followed Ron obediently, doing as he was told and taking a hot shower to rise the grime, filth, blood and Merlin only knows what else off himself. Upon exiting the shower he found that Ron had laid out a fresh set of pyjamas that he had cast a warming charm onto. Harry changed into them, feeling overwhelmed with gratitude at his friend’s thoughtfulness. 

When he returned to their dorm room Ron was in bed, pretending to sleep. Harry knew he was pretending by the shocking silence of his ‘sleeping’ form, but he was grateful nevertheless that Ron was showing that he wouldn’t ask Harry to talk about anything that happened, at least not tonight. 

He wordlessly climbed into bed and continued his charade of going to bed and sleeping off the events of the night. Instead of allowing himself to succumb to sleep though he was listening, straining his ears for when Ron’s deep breathing would change into his regular snoring. 

The wait took about an hour. 

Though he was flattered that Ron had clearly been trying to stay up as long as he could to make sure Harry was okay, he couldn’t help but be frustrated that the wait to get back to Draco would take so long. Minutes ticked by with nothing Harry could do but wait, not knowing if Draco was okay, if the plan had worked or if the antidote would be effective. For all he knew this night could still end with Draco Malfoy dying.

It was that thought, coupled with Ron beginning to snore softly that propelled Harry out of his bed. Still clad in his warm pyjamas he grabbed his invisibility cloak and took off through the halls, padding softly and praying that Fitch would have decided not to patrol the corridors tonight due to the commotion. 

Luckily, he is able to make it to the Room of Requirement without further delays. 

The doors to the room appeared and Harry was immediately met with Kreacher. 

The cranky old house elf for once in his life didn’t look miserable and angry at the world, instead he looked... worried. It was very strange seeing the tiny elf who resembled more of a sphinx cat on its hind legs than he did an elf, actually looking nervous. But Kreacher wrung his hands in front of himself and shifted his weight back and forth, not quite meeting Harry’s eyes. 

Harry’s blood began running cold. 

“Is he okay?” 

Kreacher shook his head. 

“Kreacher is not knowing Master.” The elf explained, his head still bowed, “Mister Malfoy is forbidding Kreacher from administering the antidote, he is telling Kreacher it is only for Master to be reviving him.”

“Only me?” Harry repeated, “But what if I do something wrong? What if it doesn’t work?”

“Kreacher is trying to explain to Mister Malfoy sir. Kreacher tells him that Master is being living with muggles, that Master is not knowing our ways, Kreacher is trying to say that Kreacher is being the best to look after Mister Malfoy, Kreacher knows how the ways. Mistress Black is never allowing someone of low birth to be caring for her family. Better a loyal elf. But Mister Malfoy is insisting sir.” Kreacher recalled miserably. 

Though he was sure there was a pretty unfair insult burried in the elf’s little speech, Harry chose to ignore it, instead progressing forward into he room. If Draco had left the antidote to him to administer then fine, he’d administer the damn antidote and get his Draco back. 

Or... just Draco back.

Draco wasn’t his. He knew that. 

Whatever it had been a long day. 

Having Draco (not his Draco) back wold mean at least something went right in his absolutely awful night. 

Though he knew that Draco wasn’t dead, Harry couldn’t help but feel punched when he saw Draco’s body laid out on a bed in the corner of the room. 

It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real. He repeated to himself as he took in the sight. 

Draco had always been frightfully pale but ‘death’ removed any last remaining hints of colour from his face leaving behind only a sickening bluish tinge. The hollows beneath his eyes and under is cheekbones seemed deeper and Harry could swear he could see the veins that traced around his eyelids, they were stained a deep purple without the life that generally lit them up from within. 

Though there was a lot about Draco’s appearance that disturbed Harry, his eye was also drawn to the somewhat softer parts of him. Ordinarily Harry didn’t have a chance to really look at Draco closely without being caught out. This time though, he felt compelled to steal a brief moment to take him in. 

Draco was aggressively blond, with hair so light it looked white. Though, Harry decided, not in an old man kind of way- instead his hair made him look almost angelic. Or like a Veela, Harry supposed, as this was the magical world. It was soft too, or at least it looked it- touching was the one thing Harry definitely didn’t think he could get away with doing. His eyes continued to examine the other boy’s face, travelling back to his eyes. His lashes were long, resting fanned out against his cheeks. They were darker than his hair, Harry noted with interest, more golden than white. Same as his eyebrows, which were somehow perfectly straight and neat. He vaguely wondered if Draco did anything to keep them that way. Did boys do that kind of thing? 

He continued to consider Draco for a bit longer, taking in his elegantly high cheekbones, his defined jaw line and wondered how he had ever thought of him as pointy. Draco was.... chiseled. Like he was carved from marble. 

Except his lips. 

His lips were soft looking, even in their lifeless state. Harry thought back to how Draco’s lips looked normally, remembering that they were usually a rather pleasant pink colour. The change to the colourless, almost blue shade was a disappointment, Draco certainly looked more handsome alive, not that he wasn’t good looking now, of course....

Harry shook his head to snap out of that line of thought. 

Hesitantly he took the vial of antidote off the bedside table. There was only a small portion inside, Harry hoped it would be enough. 

Being as gentle as he could Harry cupped Draco’s painfully cold jaw and tipped his head further back, his stomach fluttering with anxiety. He watched closely as Draco’s lips parted, exposing a row of perfectly white teeth. Careful not to spill even a single drop Harry poured the antidote into Draco’s mouth.

Time seemed to stand still as he waited for something to happen. Anything.

When colour began to flood back into Draco’s cheeks and face Harry decided that it could just as easily be a trick of the light. 

When Draco’s eyelashes fluttered Harry swore he was seeing things. 

When his fingers twitched Harry wondered if it was just wishful thinking. 

When Draco’s eyes finally opened Harry stared at him for a few moments, just waiting and watching to make sure it was real.

“You’re okay” he breathed in relief.

Draco took a short moment to assess how he was doing, he was awake, which was a good sign. His body seemed to have recovered fairly well from the whiplash of ‘dying’ and waking up again. He took stock, wiggling his toes from within his shoes, gently trying to move his fingers... his right hand was fine, each finger responded correctly and felt normal, but his left one was... off. Trying to wiggle his index finger, his middle one jolted instead, he couldn’t quite feel the sheet beneath him or control them properly. 

That could be a problem. 

Of course, he had expected some damage, and he was pretty relieved it was so minor, just some nerve damage to one hand, it might even clear up in a little while. Nothing to worry Harry over.

Hoping not to worry him he allowed a slow, lazy smirk to pull at the sides of his (once again pink) lips, “Why Potter, were you worried about me?”

“You know I was” he admitted, pulling Draco into a hug.

Draco’s smirk couldn’t help but morph into a genuine smile. Of course he too was hugely relieved to have woken up, he would never admit to Harry how close he likely came to that not happening, but it was touching to know that he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. 

He held onto the hug for a while longer, basking in their mutual relief. 

“So what did I miss?” Draco asked.

Harry blinked at him a few times, not sure where to even begin. So much had just happened he doubted even he knew all of what had happened since the two of them had last spoken.

“Well... Ron’s brother got mauled by a werewolf and Dumbledore is dead.”

“What? Actually dead?”

Harry nodded. 

“But... it was my mission... I thought if I wasn’t there, maybe it wouldn’t happen. I know plenty of other Death Eaters wanted him dead, but somehow I didn’t think anything could actually happen to him. Oh Merlin. And I knew letting them into the castle would be dangerous but, I wasn’t prepared for the reality of people actually getting hurt” Draco dropped his head into his hands, “this is all my fault.”

“No! No Draco its not your fault, Bill volunteered to come and protect the students, two of his siblings are here, I’m sure he would have preferred to be injured himself than have his siblings harmed when he wasn’t there to help. When it comes to Dumbledore, Snape did it. He’s the one to blame.”

“Snape? As in Professor Snape?”

Harry nodded mutely.

“I guess I’m glad I didn’t go to him for help like he kept offering. Might have been trying to entrap me.”

Harry frowned, “yeah, I’m glad you didn’t go to him either. For your sake and for mine. I’m glad you agreed to take my help, even if its led us to this messed up situation.”

Draco smiled at him, “I am too.”

“I’m going to have to escape the castle soon, before the dust settles too much here.” Draco sighed, getting ready to get up again.

“No!” Harry responded just a little bit too quickly. “I mean... no, stay here for the rest of the night, Kreacher can apparate you away first thing in the morning.”

“Where would I stay?”

“Here?” Harry offered.

Draco raised a golden eyebrow, “In the same bed?”

Harry flushed, “I don’t mean it suggestively, its just been a really intense day, I don’t think I can be alone tonight.”

“You wouldn’t be alone in your dorm” Draco countered, not sure why he was arguing the point. 

“It’s not the same.”

Draco settled back into the bed, “yeah, okay.”

“Thanks Draco.”

They didn’t say anything more. Both completely drained from the emotionally heavy day. 

Soon they fell asleep and thought no more about any of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has been leaving reviews - you guys are all so wonderful and I really love receiving your feedback :)


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As always, to everyone who has commented: thank you so much you guys have been so wonderful and I’m so touched to be getting such lovely feedback from so many of you. <3

In the morning Harry awoke first, he knew he didn’t have the luxury of a lot of time, but he relished in the few solitary minutes he could indulge in before reality forced its way back to the forefront.

 

Draco lay beside him, still fully unconscious. He had nuzzled himself deep beneath the blankets in his sleep, covering the majority of his face with the fluffy covers. Only the top of his bright blond hair was fully visible. Harry had to hold himself back from laughing at the sight- who knew Draco Malfoy was cuddly and cute when no one else was around? If anyone had told him that even a few months ago he would have thought they were insane (and wondered why they thought he would find that information at all interesting). But it was true. The only accurate word to describe Draco fast asleep was ‘adorable’.

 

It also struck Harry what a significant contrast there was between Draco asleep and when he was ‘dead’. In ‘death’ Draco had been pale, yes, he was pale in life too, but he had been blueish and stoney- yet in sleep he was flushed with faint undertones of pink and he looked soft. Again, not a word Harry would have ever previously ascribed to Draco Malfoy: Soft. But there he was. Soft and cuddly.

 

Harry smiled.

 

Before long Draco woke as well, slower than Harry. It seemed near death experiences had a way of draining a person of energy- Harry could relate to the feeling. Of waking up and being not quite sure that all the hell you had been through the night before was even real. But it was. It always was. Not even the most active imagination in the world would be cruel enough to create that kind of trauma.

 

“I guess I should be leaving soon” Draco said, finally breaking the still silence of the morning.

 

“Yeah, it would be safest.”

 

“You’ll write to me, won’t you?”

 

Harry smiled at the evident nervousness in his tone, “if you want me to.”

 

Draco shoved him lightly, “you know I want you too. Even if we weren’t friends now, I’m going to need some kind of entertainment, who knows how long I’ll be in there on my own. Could be years.”

 

He sighed, not quite willing to accept the reality of that statement quite yet. But he knew it was true. They all had uncomfortably optimistic views on how quickly this war could be over- both sides did. In reality though, when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object it can take a while before something snaps. Draco wasn’t sure which side was which in that analogy, but it felt fitting.

 

“Listen...” He said, cringing at the nervous tone of his voice, “I’ll miss you.”

 

Harry pulled him into a hug “I’ll miss you too Draco. I promise I’ll write, and try see you, I’ll do whatever I can from my end.”

 

“I don’t doubt it.”

 

Harry sighed, “Kreacher?”

 

Kreacher arrived dissapointingly quickly.

 

All in all their goodbye was a lot less dramatic than either of them would have assumed. After having had such a turbulent history it was strange to see the other go, stranger to be sad about it. Despite everything though, neither of them could find the words to say goodbye.

 

So Draco silently gathered up the remains of his things no turned to stand by Kreacher. He locked eyes with Harry and just... stared. He took in as much of those iconic green eyes as he could, staring as closely into Harry’s soul as anyone ever had.

 

“I guess I’m ready” He finally said, not breaking eye contact with Harry.

 

There were a million things Harry wanted to say, but none of them seemed fitting. What do you say to someone who had, in the space of just a few months, gone from meaning nothing to you to meaning more than nearly anyone? He wondered if Draco knew that was how he felt, or if it might make him uncomfortable if he did know. He chose to say nothing.

 

Instead he stared back, into eyes that looked like storm clouds. He didn’t know how he had ever thought of them as cold before though. Draco’s eyes were a strong steel, sure, but they made Harry feel the way the smell of rain on grass did, or how it feels to be warm inside while a storm is going on. Comforting. Somewhere along the line Harry had come to see Draco’s storm cloud eyes as comforting.

 

And then in an instant he was gone.

 

He heard the crack of Kreacher’s disapperation and he didn’t know when he would ever see him again.

 

He sighed heavily and left the Room of Requirement, ready to face the world he had taken a momentary refuge from.

 

 

***

 

 

Draco arrived at Grimmauld Place and immediately wrinkled his nose in distaste.

 

He was grateful for Harry for letting him stay here, that went without saying, but the house really had fallen into disrepair. Every inch was covered in dust, and clutter lay strewn around the dining room, where Draco had landed, as though people had vacated the property without knowing they wouldn’t be coming back to clean up after themselves.

 

He pushed the door from the dining room open quietly and made his way around the rest of the house. It was large, as these old manor homes tended to be, but he couldn’t picture how it must have looked when his mother had visited here as a child. It was of course her anscestral home- yet it looked nothing like a place Narcissa would ever be caught dead.

 

Draco had faint memories of the house from when he had visited when he was very young, but the home had been well maintained then and it was clear as day that anyone who had ever cared about the property had long since died or abandoned it.

 

Deciding he had best make himself at home he found a room for himself- one that was covered in a familiar Slytherin green decor. It was outdated, naturally, but the room was clearer than most and doubted he could have slept comfortably with all those scantily clad muggle girls staring at him like they would have been in the other room he’d found.

 

He hadn’t brought many possessions with him, it would have been far too risky, but he was sure that the could make some minor alterations to the clothes he found in the wardrobes to make them acceptable to him. Silently he rejoiced at being over age, avoiding doing any magic until his birthday would have very quickly driven him around the bend.

 

For a few days, Draco pottered. He read books from the library, tried to make awkward small talk with Kreacher (who made it his life’s mission to see Draco fattened up properly- the poor elf seemed to take up residence in the dingy kitchen now, constantly working on new things for ‘Mistress Cissy’s boy’). In the beginning he had tried to experiment with his damaged hand, he ran it along pieces of furniture and held it near candles but he still couldn’t get any sensation in it, he tried dunking it in cold water (which only served to make his wrist cold), short of actually hurting it he tried whatever he could. So he decided it would be a better use of his time to focus on making it move properly again. Eventually he would need full dexterity back in both hands, and there seemed to be no time like the present to work on getting that back.

 

Things were boring, but ultimately okay which was probably why it startled Draco so much the moment he first dropped a glass and smashed it on the ground.

 

“FILTHY HALF BREEDS DEFILING THE HOME OF MY ANCESTORS!!” Screeched a banshee (Draco had to assume).

 

The shouting was coming from the hallway, one that was covered wall to wall in heavy drapery which Draco hadn’t really explored yet.

 

The source of the manic screaming, which by this point was making Draco’s ears ring, was shaking the thick hanging curtains that covered it. Knowing he was likely to regret it later, Draco pulled the drapes free.

 

Beneath them he found a portrait of a vile, bulging eyed, wrinkled, limp haired and crazed looking woman- his great aunt Walburga. Seeming to be unaware of her great nephew’s presence Walburga continued to wail, cursing every one and everything the aged portrait could think of. Half bloods, blood traitors, mudbloods, Half breeds, it seemed they all drove the old bat to hysteria.

 

“Great Aunt Walburga?” Draco asked politely, interrupting her tyraid. She had been building up in ferver and Draco had briefly worried that she would explode with the force of it all if he didn’t interrupt her. It wasn’t that he was entirely opposed to the thought of the angry hag exploding, but it definitely wasn’t something he wanted to witness first hand.

 

“Who’s there?” She demanded, lifting an eyeglass up in front of her, trying to get a better look at him.

 

“It’s Draco ma’am.”

 

“Draco? Narcissa and Lucius’s boy?”

 

“Yes Auntie, its good to see you again.” He lied.

 

“Its wonderful to see you again too my dear!” Walburga cried, her entire demeanour changing, upon recognising Draco her face went from twisted in an ugly scowl of permanent rage to a warm welcoming face with a bright smile. Upon recognising Draco as the son of her dear niece Narcissa the aristocratic beauty of the Black family once again.

 

She bore something of a resemblance to Bellatrix, Draco decided. Which was entirely likely given that Walburga had always been a Black, she had married her cousin Orion and married into the same name she was born with. She and Draco’s grandfather Cygnus were siblings. He tried not to think about it too closely, even his Malfoy relatives were all far too closely related for comfort. His own parents had in fact broken with tradition by not marrying their own first cousins, though Narcissa could hardly have married Sirius after he had been disowned. Her second cousin Lucius was an appropriate alternative.

 

Ew.

 

“How have you been here Auntie?”

 

“Oh Draco,” She began, the back of her hand coming to her forehead dramatically, “it has been awful! The house has been full of all sorts of awful people unworthy to even look upon a member of this ancient and noble family, yet alone to take up residence in our home! They have no respect at all! One of the residents here was even a warewolf! A half blood half breed, can you even imagine!? Oh it has been dreadful!

 

Orion and I always worried about what would happen when Sirius inherited the house, after our poor dear Regulus passed away. We never could have imagined it would be so bad. We did wonder of course, if perhaps we had been wrong about him, after being sent to Azkaban for Death Eater activity- we were shocked of course but I wondered if perhaps we had done him a favour by disowning him, that he had finally found his way alongside Bellatrix, such a lovely girl she was.

 

And then he shows up back here after twelve years and I hear that he was innocent all along. Innocent!? Of making his family proud. Of fighting for our way of lie- innocent I tell you. I have never been so angry, if I could have disowned him again I would have.

 

He opened up the house to all manner of horrible people and oh Draco dear you have no idea how awful it has been, I am an old woman and to spend all day having to hear people fight against everything I hold dear. It’s too much for my old heart to take sometimes.”

At this point she was actually tearing up, wiping her eyes and fanning her face with her hand.

 

Draco was forcefully suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. He knew very little about Sirius and Regulus, his mother didn’t like to talk about Regulus and before Sirius’ escape from Azkaban in his third year, he had never really known anything about him. But suddenly he felt very sorry for the brothers.

 

When he was told that he would have to commence Death Eater activity, he remembered his father’s ashen face, the tears that spilled past his eyes as he begged for his forgiveness for putting him in that situation. Draco’s indoctrination was something that was a necessary evil to keep him alive. To keep the whole family alive.

 

But this?

 

To have parents who wanted to force you into something like this, to be threatened with disowning ifyou didn’t join a cult of evil. He couldn’t imagine it.

 

He knew there were other kids in Slytherin who were likely to face a similar kind of pressure when they graduated, but to have that kind of pressure while still at school was cruel. No question.

 

“You’re as much a Black as a Malfoy Draco, doesn’t it infuriate you to think of the home of your ancestors being treated this way?” She asked, interrupting his train of thought.

 

 

“I must admit I was terribly shocked to see the condition of the home,” Draco said, “Its as though the home has lost all pride it once had. I would imagine that one of the reasons the blood traitors are failing to give the house the respect it deserves is because it looks like squallor! An ancient home such as this one should demand the respect of its guests, not wait for them to give respect over when it has let itself go!”

 

 

“They aren’t worthy of this house in its full glory!” Walburga shouted, the viscous snarl that she had so closely in common with Bellatrix once again marring her features.

 

“But they are worthy of a dump!” He retorted, “and thats precisely what this place is now!”

 

Walburga thought about what he said. Finally, after a while she murmers ‘you’re right. Draco Dear I owe you an apology, I have done you a great disservice by allowing your family home to fall into ruin. Heirs to this family will never want to live here if it continues to look like this.” 

 

 

The portrait waved her wand from within the frame, sparks shooting outwards from out of the frame, towards Draco. In shock, he ducked out of the way, he hadn’t known that portraits could even do real world magic. He had seen them cast spells within their portraits, but for that magic to exit the frame was definitely new.

 

Around him Draco heard furniture straightening, in the halls the darkness lightened, dust evaporated off the services and the claustrophobic clutter that filled the house seemed to ease. The walls expanded and the black wallpapers eased to a soft cream colour.

 

Satisfied with the direction his conversation with his Great Aunt had taken, Draco took off to explore the changes.

 

The house was significantly bigger and lighter. There was still a strong Slytherin green theme to the house, which didn’t surprise Draco in the slightest, but it was paired with soft cream walls and polished hardwood floors. There wasn’t a speck of dust to be seen, and fortunately even the pools of spilled who even knew what was gone as well. The house which had looked abandoned, decayed and gothic was suddenly elegant, light and dare he say it... welcoming.

 

After a brief exploration it struck him that the inside of Grimmauld Place was now somewhat similar to Malfoy Mannor. Draco’s heart clenched at the reminder. He wondered how his parents were. They would definitely know by now that Draco was ‘dead’, they would be devastated. He was devastated just by the thought of how hard it must be for them.

 

There was nothing he could do about it now. He had made a choice. It was time to stick to it. All he could do was hope that there was enough doubt in his parents minds to keep them hanging on to a bit of hope.

 

That night Kreacher couldn’t stop raving about the state of the house. He praised Draco’s ability to calm his Mistress, he gushed that he had always known that a Black returning to the old home would bring good things. Even the elf seemed to have been improved by Walburga’s spell, his teeth were white again and were no longer rotting out of his head. His loincloth was clean (fortunately!) and even his posture had improved.

 

“Mistress Cissy will be very proud when Kreacher is telling her of the good that Master Draco is doing.” He declared, beaming at Draco.

 

Startled Draco turned to Kreacher, “you haven’t been speaking with my mother have you?”

 

“No Master, Kreacher is not speaking with Mistress Cissy.”

 

“If you see her, you cannot tell her about the changes to this place okay? You can’t tell her I’m here, or that I’m even alive, promise me.”

 

“You is wanting Kreacher to be keeping secrets from Mistress Cissy?”

 

“Listen Kreacher, Mother, your Mistress Cissy, is in danger, and if she knows I’m here she could be in worse trouble and I need to keep her safe. I am not your master, I can’t order you, but please Kreacher, help me keep her safe. Don’t tell her.”

 

“You is having my master Regulus’ spirit Master Draco, Kreacher is keeping your secret” The elf decided.

 

“Thank you Kreacher” sighed Draco, thankful to have dodged the spell.

 

At the end of the evening Draco was drained, it was the first day in a while that he could have counted as ‘eventful’ and he was excited to finally have something interesting to write to Harry about.

 

 _Dear Harry,_ He wrote.

 


	19. Chapter 19

_Dear Harry_ , Harry read

 

_I know its only been a few days so not much will have settled down by now, but I hope things are going as well as they can be._

_I am adjusting to life here pretty well, Kreacher is thrilled to have some company which can be a bit tedious sometimes, but I figure since he’s my only company too I had best keep him on good terms. I have listened to hundreds of stories of how wonderful my batty great aunt was by now. I’ve met her and her portrait and I can say most assuredly that she definitely wasn’t._

_Still though, I was able to get her to help me out with the house, its a lot more fit for human habitation now. I think she must have had some sort of spell on the place to keep it in the condition that it was in case Sirius let the exact kinds of people in that he did. So in fairness to her, she was right to be worried. It’s just annoying that she had that level of foresight._

_I think there’s a good chance that my letters are going to become dreadfully boring over the next few weeks, months... years... however long you keep writing back. My only news has been that I’ve made progress tidying an old house, I dread to think what I will have to report in the coming weeks when that job has been accomplished. I’ll have to start talking to you about what I’ve eaten each day and how late I slept in._

_That has been a surprisingly fun developement actually. I’ve never been allowed to sleep in before, at school there’s obviously classes and homework you have to get up early to do, and when I went home my mother always woke me up as early as she got up. I suppose I got used to it eventually, but I really hate it. I’ve been sleeping in to hours that would scandalise mother. So we won’t tell her will we?_

_Merlin I’ve gone boring.I have to apologise._

_Please respond soon and tell me something interesting._

_Your friend,_

_Draco._

 

Harry smiled upon finishing the letter, and while he had to agree that he wasn’t being as thrilling as he normally was, Harry felt that since the last time Draco was ‘interesting’ he was facing his own imminent death, a bit of boredom was a welcome change.

 

The thought of a young Draco being forced out of bed of a morning by his posh mother made Harry bizarrely happy. He had always thought of Draco as something of a villain, he was a bully, a Death Eater or a prat. He had never given any consideration to Draco having little personality quirks. Their recent friendship had opened his eyes to a surprising number of them. Draco added far too much sugar to a cup of tea but felt that milk ruined it. He was constantly readjusting his shirt cuffs, tie and buttons when he was nervous. He hated having his hair in his eyes, and would often resort to magic to hold it back when it flopped forward too much. He had a terribly dry sense of humour, but once Harry figured out the kinds of jokes Draco made, he came to realise that he made them surprisingly often. And now he could add to his collection of ‘things about Draco Malfoy’ that he was an early riser but very much not by choice.

 

It was nice to know.

 

Taking out a quill and parchment, Harry began to reply.

 

_Dear Draco,_

_You’re right, things here haven’t really had a chance to settle down properly. I feel like everything has been flipped upside down over the last few days and I’m still feeling dizzy over it. I haven’t really had time to process any of it._

_Dumbledore’s funeral was awful._

_I mean, I guess as far as funerals go it wasn’t bad, loads of people showed up and they all said really nice things. But its just so weird being in a room full of miserable people who all want to have a cry together. I didn’t really know how to do that._

_Hermione reckons I have trouble expressing emotions, maybe thats true, but really I just don’t like feeling like so many people were looking at me; wondering what I was thinking, judging if I looked upset enough or not, it made it quite hard to have a genuine reaction. People kept telling me I could talk to them, and I know they were just being nice, but I barely knew half the people who offered and I don’t now what they expect me to want to tell them. Ron says half of them just want to be able to tell someone that they comforted a sobbing Harry Potter- its kind of gross to think he might be right._

_I’m back at the Dursely’s now though, which is even worse. You know you’re a shit person when your company is literally worse than being at a funeral- but I don’t think they care. They feel the same about me in any case._

_I probably won’t be here very long (yay) but I’m trying to enjoy this little bit of time I have before shit hits the fan._

_I hope its not stupid to say but I have been thinking about you. I’m glad you’ve been able to tidy the place up a bit, though I know that slightly tidied that house would still be a mess. I’m sorry I didn’t have anywhere nicer to send you. If I come up with anything I’ll let you know and make plans to relocate you. Until then, I hope you’re coping okay. Kreacher should be able to get you whatever you need, and I think he’d love to do it, so don’t hesitate to ask him. Seriously, he would be thrilled at the chance. Send him off to get random stuff if you’re bored even, could entertain you and keep Kreacher on a real Malfoy high. (Don’t tell Hermione I told you to do that though)._

_I wish there was more I could tell you but really I’m still coming to terms with everything and there hasn’t been a lot of new information coming through. I’ll do my best to keep you posted though._

_Until then,_

_Harry._

 

He tied the letter to Hedwig’s waiting leg and sent her off, watching enviously as she took off into the sky, stretching her white wings wide beside her.

 

Flopping down onto his bed Harry tried to sleep as there wasn’t really much else to do. He was relieved to finally have a moment of peace, but his body didn’t seem to know what to do with inaction. He had been so full of stress and adrenaline for so long that standing still felt like running headfirst into a brick wall. He still felt restless, filled with a sense of urgency he was barred (quite literally) from acting on. As he lay in his bed he tried desperately to stop his mind from drifting back to the funeral.

 

Thoughts of the funeral brought up thoughts of the murder.

 

Harry Potter, at sixteen, had witnessed three murders.

 

He knew how much his parents’ deaths still weighed on him, how often he still had nightmares about Cedric and how desperately he would think back to that night, trying to find something he could have done differently. He knew that this death would weigh on him just as much. Nightmares about the headmaster falling from the astronomy tower still haunted him every night, and he expected they would continue for a long while yet.

 

But he knew that once he, Ron and Hermione got on the move looking for Horcruxes he would think back to these nights when he could have banked in more sleep. So he tried.

 

He must have been successful because he woke up some time later to find his glasses resting unevenly on his face and his back hurting from the strange position he had dozed off in. Groggily he gazed around the room for the source of the sound that had awoken him.

 

Hedwig was back, pecking softly at the window. She was such a clever bird, at Hogwarts she would be pecking much more forcefully, demanding Harry’s attention. But back at the Dursley’s she knew to be more quiet. 

 

Harry let her in, fed her a treat and fondly stroked her feathers. She had a reply from Draco held in her little claw.

 

Instantly he was excited, and wanted to take the letter and read it as fast as possible. But he knew that Hedwig would be offended if he seemed more interested in the letter than her. She was so snarky like that sometimes (though Harry did love how much personality she had). Taking time to accept some affectionate nips from Hedwig, he petted her feathers and stroked under her chin until she returned to her cage for a nap, tucking her head under her wing.

 

Harry had never torn a letter open quite so quickly. 

 

_H,_

_As grateful as I am to have heard back from you so quickly, I’m sorry its a result of your boredom. I know you hate being back with your relatives so I hope you can hang in there a bit longer._

_I am worried about how much information we are sharing though, I trust your owl of course but it would be pretty awful for both of us for these letters to be intercepted. I’ve charmed this letter to self destruct if it is opened by anyone other than you, so if you don’t get anything from me then thats why. Although, if you don’t get anything from me you won’t know because you wont have read this letter.... If I don’t get a reply in a coupe of days I’ll write back again then shall I?_

_It’s not at all stupid for you to say you’ve been thinking of me. I’ve been thinking of you too. So unless we are both stupid I think you’re okay. I really never thought I’d see a day where I where I was writing to you willingly and telling you that I miss you- but here we are. And I do._

_I’m sorry things are so tense at the moment, and that you can’t even enjoy a moment without stress because you’re so aware that more stress is coming- its a truly shit situation. I wish there was more I could do to help. All I can suggest is keep writing to people, myself, your friends and anyone you can think of, they will appreciate knowing that they’re on your mind and I think you need to have their presence reinforced to yourself. You tend to get all in your own head sometimes and forget who is there for you. Don’t let that happen, okay? If nothing else remember that I’m here. And if you can think of any little way that I can help please let me know._

_I have quite possibly had a little bit too much of the elf wine that Kreacher has been serving tonight- he keeps refilling my glass and its absolutely delicious, so I cannot be to blame- so I think I should sign off for tonight before I say something truly embarrassing._

_Goodnight H,_

_I’m thinking of you,_

_D._

_Ps. What is a fan and why on Earth would you hit it with shit? Is that a muggle custom?_


	20. Chapter 20

A week before Harry’s seventeenth birthday, he was finally allowed to leave the Dursley’s house for the last time. Harry had been furious when he found out the Order had been trying to plan his ‘relocation’ without him, apparently everyone had been in on the planning but Harry. He only found out after Ron let something slip in a letter. Immediately Harry had contacted Remus and demanded to know what was going on. There had been discussions about moving him earlier, or later, and honestly, the plan to ‘get Harry out of the muggles’ house’ went through far too many revisions to be normal. Ultimately, (after some secret deliberation with Draco, in which he very colourfully berated the Order for their ‘Gryffindorish insistence on making everything harder than it needed to be’) they landed on the easiest solution- Remus would come over and floo Harry back to the Burrow. Mad-Eye Moody raised the most objection to the plan, insisting that a fully escorted convoy of Aurors and Order members was the way to go but Harry put his foot down, threatening to leave and walk to the Burrow himself. There hadn’t been any arguments after that. 

The Dursley’s fireplace was still connected to the Floo network from fourth year when the Weasley’s had taken Harry to the World Cup back in forth year. Harry was told to make sure the Dursleys were comfortable with the plan but given the unfortunate end to the last time wizards burst through their fireplace Harry figured it was safer for everyone if they kept it a surprise. For sure it was safer for him in any case. 

Once Harry was safely out of the house Hestia and Dedalus Diggle would arrive to escort the Dursleys to a safe location. This too, Harry decided would probably be best received coming from anyone else. Part of him felt guilty for how much the Durselys were going to be surprised by in the coming days, but a bigger and slightly more honest part of himself was endlessly amused by imagining their reactions and was vindictively pleased at the knowledge of how much this was going to piss them off. It would be a fitting farewell present if nothing else. 

On the day that Remus arrived to take him away from number 4 Privet Drive for the last time Harry was ecstatic. He couldn’t help it. Part of him had wondered if he would feel at least a little sorry to see the back of his only surviving family, that he might feel nostalgic at the thought of never seeing the home he grew up in again. But in all honesty, he was excited to be closing the door on this part of his life. Despite the huge, gaping issues in the wizarding world, he was thrilled to be a part of it, he was happy to leave the Dursleys behind and embrace life as a full time wizard. 

Remus it seemed, didn’t quite understand how Harry could be quite so happy about it. 

“You’re sure you don’t want to say goodbye Harry? You might regret it when you’re older you know. I know you having really gotten along, but surely a part of you still loves them.” He tried to coax the teenager. 

“Loves them? Remus, there’s barely a part of me that likes them, yet alone loves them.” Harry snorted. 

“Come on Harry, you’re not being fair. They did raise you.”

Harry rolled his eyes and gestured for Remus to follow him. He hadn’t wanted to do this, to bare his past to the former Professor, but he hated to see that judgemental look in the man’s eye. The one that all his teachers had growing up when they thought of him as being ungrateful for the home they assumed had been loving. Guiding Remus through the house Harry stopped at the door to his old bedroom, the infamous cupboard under the stairs. 

“Go in.” Harry urged, holding the small door open. 

Raising an eyebrow sceptically Remus forced himself into the small space, he was too wide across the shoulders for the door to close with him inside, but he tried to force his limbs in tightly to his body. Looking around he tried to understand why Harry would ask something so weird of him. Before he opened his mouth though, his eyes fell on a collection of small toys. They were little army men, their broken bits held on with sellotape, a toy car with two of its wheels missing, and a few other broken toys that seemed to have been saved from the bin. He looked around a little more. He found a collection of child’s drawings wedged into the loose paneling of the stairs above. The drawings were obviously made years ago, of stick figures and sunshine and a little note in a childish scrawl that simply read ‘my name is Harry’. 

Climbing awkwardly out of the cupboard Remus asked a question he dreaded to hear the answer to. 

“Harry… what is that room?”

“That was my bedroom, for as far back as I can remember until I got my Hogwarts letter. I was locked in there if I did something wrong, I went back to sleep in there after doing chores all day and I hid in there when my uncle was angry about something and I didn’t have anywhere safe to go. When my letter came, it was addressed to Harry Potter Cupboard Under the Stairs 4 Privet Drive. They worried they were being watched, that was when I was moved. But until I was eleven, that was where I lived.”

“But I don’t understand…” Remus sputtered, “there are three bedrooms upstairs, you live in one of them!”

“Yeah, before my eleventh birthday my room was Dudley’s second bedroom.”

“He had two bedrooms and you only got one?” 

“Yep.”

“Oh Harry, I’m so sorry I had no idea…” Remus broke off. He wanted to explain that no one had ever told him, that if he had known he would have done something. But even in his own head his arguments felt weak and far too little too late. He looked at Harry, the boy that looked so much like one of his best friends in the world, and thought back to the day he was born. Lily and James had been so proud to introduce their tiny little son to the gang and he remembered so clearly he and Sirius promising each other that they would do whatever it took to protect that boy. 

Sirius had died trying to fulfil that promise. 

Remus on the other hand, he had sat back and constantly made excuses while Harry was growing up being treated horribly by a family that he had hated. 

“I can’t even begin to explain to you how sorry I am.” Remus said, shaking his head to get his thoughts in order, “I thought that you would be better off here. There were so many laws restricting warewolves from adopting, and after Sirius was arrested and James and Lily died, I did genuinely consider asking Dumbledore if I could adopt you. But I knew it would be an uphill battle, I knew people would judge you for being raised with a warewolf, and Dumbeldore assured me that you were happy and well taken care of and… I guess I chose to believe him. It was easier to believe that the Headmaster knew what he was doing and to assume that he was keeping check on you than to go looking myself. I wanted to believe you were okay, because honestly, I started to believe that everything they said about me was true. I believed that I couldn’t look after you, so it was easier to tell myself that I didn’t need to. I believed that you would be ostracised if you lived with me, so I never questioned if you were already being ostracised where you were living already. I completely failed you. I’m so so sorry.”

Harry was stunned. He had no idea that living with Remus had ever even been an option. He highly doubted that Dumbledore would have allowed Remus to adopt Harry, given how obsessed he had always been with the importance of him living with one of his mother’s blood relatives. But for a moment Harry mourned the life he might have had if he had been allowed to live with Remus. He didn’t know where he would have lived, but he imagined going to school and having someone who cared how the day went when he got home. He imagined parents night where his guardian wouldn’t loudly declare to everyone that they were there because he didn’t have a real family of his own. He wouldn’t have been punished and accused of cheating if he did better than his cousin. He would have felt safe in his own home. He might have actually missed his home when at Hogwarts. He would have grown up knowing about magic!

For a moment he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy of how things could have been different. 

Only for a moment though. He didn’t want to dwell. 

“I don’t blame you for any of that,” Harry explained, “I just don’t like when people assume that I’m ungrateful or that I don’t appreciate being taken in. I mean I guess I do appreciate that they took me in, but its like they say that I need to be grateful to stop me from saying anything about the bad stuff thats going on. No one wants to hear it, they would rather I just shut up about it.” He sighed. 

Pulling Harry into a hug Remus apologised one more time. Harry just nodded, not feeling like there was anything more to add. 

In silence the pair grabbed the remainder of Harry’s possessions. There wasn’t a lot, most of his possessions were carted back and forth to Hogwarts with him every year, all there was to collect was old text books from first through fifth year. He didn’t want to keep a lot of the clothes and he didn’t really have any sentimental stuff lying around his room. Securing Hedwig carefully he was ready to go in only a few minutes. 

Side by side the two stood in the fireplace, after carefully removing the grate that covered the bottom (wanting to avoid the mistake that the Weasleys made during their visit). 

Harry watched as his last glimpse of the house he grew up in flashed out of sight in a blur of green flame. 

When the kitchen of the Burrow snapped into view Harry was immediately accosted by Mrs. Weasley, “Harry!” She cried, wrapping him in a warm, firm hug which Harry gratefully returned.

Mrs. Weasley was one of Harry’s favourite people in the world, he thought as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. He had only known her a few years but she was so much more of a mother to him than Aunt Petunia had ever been. He was really glad she was there when he arrived. 

“Ron, Ginny and Hermione are all upstairs, I’m sure they’ll be delighted to see you. Would you like something to eat before heading up there though? You look peckish... or maybe even a cup of tea and some biscuits, I’m sure this morning can’t have been easy for you.”

Gratefully he accepted the tea and biscuits, “Thank you Mrs. Weasley, but really I’m okay, really.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are dear, you’re such a stoic boy. I can imagine it must be hard to say goodbye to your family though.”

“He’ll be fine Molly” Remus interjected. Placing a supportive hand on Harry’s shoulder.

He finished up his tea and thanked Mrs. Weasley once again before heading upstairs to say hello to his friends.

Before he could leave though Remus pulled him aside, “I just want to chat with you for a minute before you go” he assured.

Harry nodded, but braced himself. He wasn’t used to dealing with people trying to have ‘emotional’ talks with him, especially not adults. He could talk about feelings and stuff with Draco, he was the kind of person who made talking about anything seem easy. And he could do it with Hermione, who was prone to dragging emotional baggage out of a person whether they wanted to talk about it or not. But they were pretty much the only people in his life who he wanted to have those deep kinds of talks with… When adults tried to do it they often seemed to want to tell him how they thought he was feeling, or what they expected he might be feeling. It felt a lot like being lectured. It was something Dumbledore used to do a lot….

He pushed the thought out of his head.

He was very relieved when Remus simply reached into his pocket and pulled out a shard of mirror, the one Harry had Kreacher deliver to him and a galleon coin. He placed the mirror shard in Harry’s hand. 

“Thank you for giving this to me, but I think its time I returned it to you.”

“But, what if I need to contact you.”

Remus handed him the galleon next, “I believe you are familiar with how these work?” 

“Are they like the ones that Hermione made for the DA?” He asked, both impressed that Hermione’s spell work was being copied by the Order, and determined that she should get credit if they were. 

“Yes” Remus nodded, “we were hugely impressed by Hermione’s ingenuity and we asked her to make up a set for the Order, you can send messages to us that way if you need to. You can also contact me by owl or floo if need be, but I think this mirror should be back with you, you still have the other one?”

Harry nodded and smiled broadly, not noticing Remus’ knowing smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been so wonderful getting so much positive feedback from all of you and I want to say a massive thank you to anyone who took the time to leave a comment or to give kudos, you guys are so lovely. I hope you enjoy where this story is starting to go, its slowly going to start to veer more off canon so its becoming really exciting to explore all that :D


	21. Chapter 21

Draco had been sitting in his room, pouring over an old potions textbook from the 1940s and taking great interest in how instructions had changed and wondering how students could have ever spent so long on such basic potions. The history of potions as a discipline had always been something that had fascinated him. He was so engrossed that he didn’t notice the beautiful snowy owl land on his windowsill and tap patiently on the glass.

 

Hedwig was a remarkably well behaved bird. She had a lovely temperament and truly made for the perfect pet for Harry. One thing she didn’t appreciate tough was being ignored. She sat at the windowsill, irritation growing as the blond boy inside failed to notice her. Tapping again, she tried to get his attention.

 

Feathers ruffling after a few minutes she trilled crossly and gave a harsh peck at the glass that was stopping her from delivering her mail (and giving the boy a piece of her mind!)

 

At the sound of the sharp peck, the boy’s attention snapped up. He smiled brightly when he saw her perched outside, waiting to be let in. Although she didn’t appreciate being kept waiting, Hedwig did like how happy this boy always was to see her. Harry wrote very few letters, and most people who saw her gave her a quick pat hello and sent her on her way. The blond boy gave her treats though, and judging by the size of his smile, she was about to be well rewarded for her job well done.

 

The window opened and Hedwig stepped gracefully inside before raising her leg obediently to hand over her delivery.

 

Draco carefully untied the parcel attached to the bird and set it aside to stroke Hedwig’s soft feathers in greeting. He held out a hand, which the owl happily climbed onto and he led her over to where she could have some water. Holding the owl with his right hand he used his left to open his bag of owl treats and attempted to pour some of them out into a small bowl for her. Unable to quite coordinate his left had, they filled the bowl all the way and spilled out onto the bench below. Hedwig cooed excitedly.

 

He knew he should clean it up and give the owl a more sensible amount of treats but he decided not to for two reasons. 1- he really wanted to read Harry’s letter and didn’t want to waste the time he could be spending reading the letter on tidying up for an owl; and 2- he definitely didn’t want to have given Hedwig a massive bowl of treats only to take them back off her. Hedwig was not a bird he wanted to pick a fight with.

 

So he returned to the windowsill and took the letter out of its parcel. In there as well was a shard of mirror, Draco stared at it for a moment, turning it over in his hand and gazing at his own grey eye looking back at him. Hoping for clarification he turned his attention back to the mirror.

 

_D,_

_I hope everything is going well with you, I am back with the Weasley’s so things are already much better on my end. Thanks for your help with all that, I’m so glad I got to leave early- even though its made things a bit frosty with a few people here. I think some people thought I was being a bit of a diva about the whole thing but oh well. Dumbledore was the one who always insisted I stay at the Dursleys and with him gone I guess no one could think of a good enough reason to keep me there. Yay._

_Anyway when I got to the Weasley’s Remus gave me the mirror that I’ve sent on to you. It’s a two way mirror that my dad and Sirius used to use in school to chat to each other when they were in separate classes. Anyway its pretty easy to use, you just say the name of the person you want to talk to, and if they have the other mirror on them you’ll be able to see them and talk. I figured I would send it to you so we can talk as ‘face to face’ as possible rather than sending letters back and forth._

_I’m sharing a room with Ron though so you might have to wait until pretty late at night to contact me, but I’ve taken to sleeping with a silencing charm around me anyway so I’m sure he won’t notice. Keep yours on you though because if I get a spare moment I’m sure I’ll steal a minute to chat- if you want to of course._

_Anyway I hope I’ll talk to you soon_

_H._

 

Draco gaped at the small piece of glass in his hand. He was thrilled to have a way to talk to Harry again, of course he was, but he was even more floored by the fact that Harry had sent him something that had belonged to his dad and Sirius. Harry had so few things in his life that could tie him to those people that Draco knew he guarded them fiercely. The fact that he willingly parted with half of the mirror set for Draco spoke volumes of the level of trust Harry had in him.

 

Of course, a lot of what he had done for Draco showed him how much Harry trusted him.

 

It was a weird experience, being trusted. Thinking over his life Draco didn’t think there had actually been many moments where he could genuinely say that he felt as though someone trusted him, wholly and completely. None of his friends fully trusted him, which was never a problem for him because he hadn’t fully trusted any of them either. His parents loved him, he knew that, but they never let him be entirely in the loop, they always had failsafes in place and guarded information tightly. The same of course could be said for him, he hadn’t mentioned his defection to either of his parents and he couldn’t honestly say that lack of trust hadn’t played some part in that decision. Because no one he had grown up with had really been given the freedom to trust anyone else openly, he hadn’t felt like he could fully trust any of them in return. It was a pretty vicious cycle that unfortunately a lot of people in his life seemed to be stuck in. The Dark Lord was the easiest person to blame for it, but Draco knew that he just made it worse, the lack of trust in Pureblood circles, more specifically Slytherin Pureblood circles, had existed for a long time.

 

Nevertheless being trusted by Harry Potter was an honour. One that Draco most definitely did not take for granted.

 

Patiently he waited until night time, he returned to his reading, let Hedwig out after her nap and tried to stop himself from watching the clock count down. Eventually though, night came (he had begun to seriously doubt if it would).

 

He held up the mirror shard carefully, and clearly said ‘Harry Potter’.

 

It only took a few seconds for the iconic glasses covered green eyes to fill the mirror. Harry’s face broke into a wide smile and he held his mirror piece out further away so Draco could see his whole face.

 

“Hi!” Harry said, excited to see Draco again.

 

“Hello” Draco replied, smiling (if possible) wider than Harry was.

 

For a moment neither of them could think of anything to say, they sat in the dark of their rooms and smiled widely at each other, not knowing how to break the silence. Eventually Draco snickered, “you would think after wanting to talk to someone for so long I would have had something more interesting to say from the get go wouldn’t you?”

 

Harry laughed, “I get what you mean, I feel like I should have prepared a list of talking points. What have you been up to today?”

 

Draco launched into an animated discussion about his potions reading, telling Harry about all the extra steps that used to be involved in making some of the points they made in class, the pepper-up potion for example, had been a potion that took a whole moon cycle to mature before they discovered that they would half the number of lacewing flies and brew the potion cold to get the same result.

 

Harry quite honestly barely cared about how potions were made now, yet alone how they were made more than fifty years ago, but the sight of Draco talking so animatedly about it made Harry excited too. He really didn’t care what the topic was, as long as it made Draco this excited he would listen without complaint for hours on end.

 

They talked well into the night, until they were struggling to keep their eyes open and kept losing track of where the conversation was. It was with a comfortable sleepyness that they said goodnight and vowed to talk again soon.

 

And so began a week of chatting every night, just like they had done in school. They scheduled to both listen to Quiddich games on the wireless during the day and came back to discuss the results together. They laughed about the awkward attempts Kreacher made to endear himself to Draco, they talked about Draco’s parents and Harry promised to forward any information he got about them. It seemed no topic was off limits and they could talk comfortably about everything.

 

And then one night, the topic of girls came up.

 

“Come on, there must be some lucky girl who has caught the Chosen One’s eye” Draco teased, laughing when Harry wrinkled his nose in distaste for the nickname.

 

“Well... I don’t... I mean... Can we talk about something else?” Harry stammered, his face flaming red.

 

Draco’s curiosity was piqued, “come on Potter, do share.”

 

Harry’s face was redder than Draco had ever seen it, he took a deep breath and said “I kissed Ginny Weasley... or rather, I suppose she kissed me... either way.. yeah, that happened.”

 

Draco cocked his head in confusion, “how has a cheeky snog with the Weaslette got that reaction out of you? With the colour of that blush I thought you were about to tell me you’d been having it on with Professor Sprout or something.”

 

“You know there really is far more interesting things we could talk about” - Harry tried.

 

“Oh no way, I am starved for entertainment, was it awful? Egh what did she do?” Draco asked excitedly, imagining a horrible kiss with far too much tongue and spit- he never particularly liked the Weaslette, so he was positively gleeful at the thought of her being a terrible snog.

 

“No... I mean if anything it was me that made it bad. I don’t know- I mean, I really like her, she’s cool and really funny and friendly and all that, but I just found it kind of boring? I wasn’t really into it at all...”

 

“Maybe you just don’t fancy her?” Draco offered.

 

“I did though!”

 

“Maybe you changed your mind?”

 

“You can’t just change your mind” Harry protested shaking his head.

 

By this stage Draco was no longer entertained by Harry’s embarrassment, in fact his tone seemed to hint that this was something that had been bothering him for a long time. Now his interest had gone from entertainment to wanting to wipe that self deprecating look off Harry’s face.

 

“Of course you can change your mind, maybe you did fancy her but you got over it- crushes don’t always last very long, they can fizzle out pretty quickly. Maybe by the time she made a move you weren’t feeling it anymore so it didn’t do anything for you.”

 

“I don’t know... maybe... It’s just that, well, this isn’t the first time this has happened.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, ugh this is so embarrassing, back in fifth year I actually had a thing with Cho Chang?”

 

“The Ravenclaw girl? Year above?” Draco asked.

 

“Yeah, anyway, we went out briefly, I don’t know if we even got to a point where I could have called her my girlfriend. We went on one date and I ended up leaving half way through.”

 

“Ouch”

 

“I know, I didn’t mean anything by it, it was when I did that interview for the Quibbler. You remember?”

 

“I do”

 

“Well see, I had fancied her for ages, since fourth year, before she went to the yule ball with Cedric, I even tried asking her to go to the ball with me. I was keen on her for ages and then one day she kissed me. And look, I’ll be honest, It wasn’t the best kiss, she was crying about Cedric being dead and all that, but as soon as she did it it was like my interest just evaporated. I feel like the same has happened with Ginny. I was keen on her for months, then she corners me and kisses me and it was just awkward and uncomfortable.”

 

“Maybe they’re both just bad kissers?”

 

“Maybe, somehow I don’t think thats it though. I think there’s something wrong with me. I like spending time with them and I think they’re pretty, but the thought of doing anything physical with them just makes me feel all squirmy, and not in a good way. There’s definitelysomething not quite right with me” Harry confessed

 

“Harry, even if you didn’t want to do anything with them it doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you. You don’t have to want to do anything. I don’t know if its the thought of doing stuff with them specifically or with anyone in general but either way- its alright.”

 

Having never been offered that explaination, Ron had always thought Harry just had unnatural self control when he wasn’t swayed by the veela girls at the World Cup, figured Harry was just very respectful and shy when he wasn’t interested in gushing about which girls had gotten the fittest over the holidays at the start of term. No one had ever suggested that if he wasn’t interested that was okay.

 

“I don’t know if its everyone in general, I guess just hearing the other guys in Gryffindor go on about girls and stuff, I never really related... I don’t know...” Harry’s eyes dropped, unable to look at Draco in his embarrassment.

 

Draco watched him closely, considering what Harry had said. He didn’t want to get his hopes up but he couldn’t help the small part of him that wondered if maybe Harry was just like him.

 

“So is it girls you aren’t interested in, or intimacy in general you aren’t interested in?” He asked, hoping it sounded casual.

 

Nope, Harry decided, not going there. “Lets talk about you instead. We’ve been talking about me too much tonight.”

 

“What about me?” Draco asked, very aware that his last question had pushed Harry just a bit too far.

 

“Any girls taken your fancy over the years?”

 

Draco laughed, “No, I always expected I would do the traditional thing and just let my parents find some girl for me to make more Malfoy’s with and have that be the end of it.”

 

“Thats… actually really depressing”

 

“I know, I just figured that since witches aren’t exactly my cup of tea, I may as well do the duty thing and be done with it.” Draco explained, the decision had been a relatively easy one at the time, his father had explained that while he could have affairs with whoever he wanted, having his— alternative preferences, as common knowledge might be detrimental to the family’s standing, especially with the Dark Lord so determined to create a whole Pureblood generation. He hadn’t really ever been in a position where he would be able to, or would want to, challenge those instructions.

 

“What do you mean witches aren’t your thing?” Harry asked, confused. Witches were meant to be everyone’s thing. Obviously he knew about gay people, he wasn’t completely naive, but he had only ever heard them referenced in some of Uncle Vernon’s particularly awful rants. He never thought it was something people would admit to... He must have misunderstood?

 

“My Merlin Harry were you raised completely under a rock?”

 

“No… just with highly conservative muggles.”

 

“Well, I’m sorry that I have to be the one to tell you but not all wizards like witches, some wizards like other wizards.”

 

Harry’s mind seemed to short circuit for a moment.

 

There didn’t seem to be a way that he could have misunderstood what Draco just said.

 

Draco liked other wizards.

 

Oh.

 

Okay.

 

Wow.

 

The very thought seemed to flood Harry’s brain and he couldn’t quite process it. Draco liked other wizards, so he might have actually done something with another wizard, or thought about it... wow. Did Draco kiss other wizards too? Was it the same awkward type of kissing that Harry had experienced, or was it more the kind of thing Harry had thought kissing would be? He pictured Draco pressed up against someone else, someone tall, solid and broad. Would it have been passionate? Rough? Gentle? He was suddenly flooded with questions and he didn’t know what to ask first, or what he was allowed to ask.

 

“Are you okay Harry?” Draco asked nervously. Harry hadn’t spoken for a few solid minutes, it was starting to get very uncomfortable watching him gape at him through the little sliver of mirror.

 

“Yeah, sorry I’m okay, I just...”

 

Draco interrupted him, “you don’t have to say anything, really. I know muggles have some weird ideas about this kind of thing so I’m sure it could be a lot for you to take in. Take your time.”

 

“Its just that with muggles its always been something that people keep pretty hush hush about, its not something people are usually so open about... I’m just surprised I guess. Does the wizarding world see it differently?”

 

Draco sighed, “like with anything, different people have different views. Overall wizarding society tends to be a lot more open minded about it. Most people don’t care. But of course there are a lot of people who come from muggle families who were raised to think it was a bad thing- they don’t always grow out of that when they get older and some of them take issue, so I don’t know.For old families like mine it tends to be something that isn’t of consequence- old families are obsessed with continuing the line, if you’re the only surviving heir then it really doesn’t matter what you prefer, you have to produce the next heir, no matter what your preference is. But if I had a younger brother who liked girls for example, then there wouldn’t be an issue. The Dark Lord though is really pushing that all Purebloods make reproducing a priority, he’s a lot less okay with it. So its never really been something I can be open about, but its not something I actively hide either, does that make sense?”

 

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “that makes sense.”

 

The conversation fizzled into other topics after that and while Harry tried to keep his attention on what Draco was talking about his mind kept circling.

 

Draco likes wizards.

 

Boys.

 

He likes boys.

 

I’m a boy, Harry’s mind supplied, not that it was relevant or anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooooh things are about to start getting very interesting with these two!


	22. Chapter 22

Talking to Draco every night had once again firmly become Harry’s favourite thing to do. He was exhausted through most of the day every day but he couldn’t find it in him to regret all the time he spent up at night with the mirror. 

At breakfast he would struggle to stifle his yawning and would pretend to pay attention when people around him but all in all the majority of his attention was waiting for Draco. He knew that soon he would have to take off with Ron and Hermione to search for the Horcruxes and once he left there would be almost no opportunity for talking to Draco in the same way. He didn’t know where they would be or what their sleeping and living arrangements would be- but he knew that he was unlikely to be able to pull off shrouding himself under a silencing charm every night, and while Ron never noticed a lumos charm being cast while he was asleep, Harry doubted Hermione would be so oblivious. 

So while he felt guilty for misleading his friends, he didn’t let himself get too guilty. Who knew how much longer he would have this for?

Every night, without fail, Harry and Draco talked. The subject of their conversation was almost irrelevant, all that seemed to matter was that they were both there and they were both excited to have someone they could have pointless and random chats with. Someone who wouldn’t think they were weird for what they chose to talk about, someone who wouldn’t push when they hit a topic that they didn’t want to discuss. It was easy. 

Some nights Harry fell asleep while talking to Draco, and though Draco wouldn’t admit it, those were his favourite nights. 

He sat on his bed and smiled to himself as Harry’s head dropped off the arm that was holding him up. His mouth was open and his glasses were askew on his face. Long black lashes fanned elegantly across his cheek bones and his famous scar was distorted by his dark fringe. Harry’s hair was always the wildest thing about him, in sleep though it seemed his hair deflated as Harry did. It still stuck up at odd angles and it still looked completely unkept and out of control, but it seemed softer and almost silky in sleep. When he was awake his hair was alive, almost electric looking and wild. Maybe Draco just didn’t get a much time to admire it when Harry was awake and just hadn’t noticed some of its finer details. He didn’t want to make things uncomfortable between them by openly ogling his hair. 

He watched for a while, affectionately smiling as Harry murmured to himself in his sleep. Just when he was about to turn the mirror off and head to sleep himself, the tone of Harry’s sleep talking took a turn. 

Concern etched itself deep into Draco as he watched Harry’s eyebrows knit together in pain, his body curling tighter in on itself. He worried as Harry began to sound more panicked and fearful, not knowing what to do to help.

He was moaning, a fearful, pained moan and his skin had begun to sweat as his body started to shake more violently. If Harry were awake Draco would have thought he was in the middle of a very aggressive panic attack, but given that he was still asleep his heart clenched at the thought of how terrible the nightmare would have to be to draw out such a strong reaction. 

Harry was asleep, and unlikely to hear him if he called out to him, but he was miles away in who knows where at the Weasley’s hovel- there was no way Draco could get to him, even if he did know where to go. 

He knew that Harry suffered from nightmares, everyone who knew him did, but being suddenly confronted with an increasingly agonised Harry when there was nothing he could do about it was incredibly distressing. Draco suddenly had a lot more respect for Weasley for keeping it together for so long. 

“Harry?” He tried.

“Harry!”

“HARRY?!”

Whether it was because of his increasingly panicked shouting or if the dream had simply run its course, Draco didn’t know, but he breathed a sigh of relief when Harry’s eyes shot open. 

He was panting and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, as though he had just run a long distance, though of course, he hadn’t moved from his bed. 

“Are you okay Harry?” Draco asked tentatively. He didn’t know how long Harry usually needed to get his bearings after a nightmare but he had to make sure Harry was alright. 

Harry seemed startled to notice that Draco was still there and immediately became embarrassed that Draco had seen him like that. Sitting up and running his hands through his hair Harry shrugged “I’m fine, just a nightmare you know. Nothing to worry about.”

“It didn’t seem like just a nightmare, that seemed pretty intense.”

“Well it was okay! I’m fine!” Harry snapped. 

Draco raised his hands in surrender, “alright, if you say so, I’m just worried about you. If you want to talk about it you can, but if you don’t want to go there I understand that too, I just wanted to make sure you were alright- even normal nightmares can mess me up pretty bad sometimes. I don’t think I would be fine after one that intense.” 

Harry softened almost instantly at Draco’s words. There was something in the ease at which Draco was willing to back down, to say that if he really didn’t want to talk about it, he would back off. It wasn’t an option that was given to him often. Strangely, it made him more inclined to want to talk. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just still a little disoriented- I don’t really know how to explain my nightmares vey well, they’re not really just nightmares and I guess that’s what makes them worse.”

“What do you mean they aren’t just nightmares? Are they memories of stuff?” Draco asked, mentally filing through a list of all of the traumas Harry had endured that could easily give him nightmares. 

“No, not memories. They’re more like visions I guess... You’re going to think I’m completely mental here but, okay, so when Voldemort tried to kill me he didn’t exactly do it right- obviously, but after that happened we have been sort of connected. I get visions from time to time flashes of what he’s up to when he’s particularly angry or happy or whatever. Its never pleasant.”

“So you see through the Dark Lord’s eyes...?” Draco asked, horrified by the very thought. 

“Yeah, I do.”

“So thats what happened just now?”

Harry nodded. 

Almost not wanting to hear the answer Draco asked, “What did you see this time?”

Harry heard the edge in his voice and knew that while Draco wanted to put on a brave face for his friend, he was pretty scared to hear anything. It was actually really touching that despite his fear of what Harry would tell him, Draco asked anyway. Harry was very accustomed to Hermione and Ron being sympathetic to his visions but not wanting any specific information about them. 

That being said, he didn’t want to upset his friend by giving him the details.

“Don’t worry about it” Harry told him.

“I’m serious,” Draco insisted “you had to witness it, the least I can do is listen to it second hand. I’m sure you need to talk about it.”

Harry sighed again, still semi reluctant to talk about it, but Draco was right, he did kind of want to get it off his chest. 

“I guess I’ll start by saying your parents are both okay…” Harry began.

Draco immediately sat up straighter, “you saw them? In the Dark Lord’s mind? How were they? What was he saying to them?”

“I saw them yeah, he wasn’t really talking directly to them… there was other stuff going on… but your parents were both there, they didn’t look great, but I guess thats to be expected given what they’ve got going on at the moment, I definately didn’t get any indication that he suspected you were alive or anything like that so I think if your parents suspect anything they’re keeping it well under wraps. Which is good because I think they’re under pretty constant legilimency at the moment, he’s really not taking any chances…” Harry trailed off, he didn’t know if he should really go into a lot of detail about how bad Lucius and Narcissa looked. He knew the guilt of not telling them anything was crushing Draco, and telling him how haunted his parents looked without him would crush him, but he couldn’t help but feel that they had made the right choice after seeing them tonight- despite how grief stricken they were, Voldemort pretty much lived in all of their heads. Paranoia had taken a deep hold over him and it didn’t seem like anyone was above suspicion. 

“Anyway” Harry continued, driving his recount away from the Malfoys, “it was pretty awful, I mean, its always awful, but you don’t get used to it- they were torturing someone- I don’t know if it was a muggle born or a muggle or whoever but he kept saying that they had to watch, he wouldn’t let anyone turn their eyes away from her, he wanted them to know what would happen if they thought about betraying him. She was so scared, and in so much pain- I know they couldn’t really have done anything to help her, but no one even tried…” He rubbed his hands over his eyes, as if hoping to rub the image out of his mind, “I can’t imagine what you have to be thinking to see that and not feel like you have to do something. Maybe that’s harsh of me, or naive, I don’t know, I know they would likely get themselves killed if they tried to help her, but still. They all seemed to just accept it…”

Draco sighed as well, hating that Harry, who was so pure and good - should have to witness something that was so starkly the opposite of everything that he was. “Its pretty awful, yeah… they get exposed to it from very early, and when you’re young its even easier not to intervene, everyone around you is so much older and more capable. By the time they’re that deep in it they’ve seen this shit so many times that not doing anything about it is second nature.”

“But thats terrible!” Harry protested, a wave of sympathy for the however many people who were subjected to this show of torture overcoming him.

“Of course its terrible!” Draco agreed, “don’t you think I know that? I wouldn’t be where I am right now if I wasn’t fully aware of how fucked up it all was. But as much as its easy to say ‘something should be done about that- its not that simple! I’m sure you Gryffindor would happily burst into any situation and save all the people who need to be saved and wouldn’t give a damn about who the casualties were so long as you can pat yourselves on the back and say you ‘did the right thing’- but some of us can’t do that. Sometimes asking someone to die to save someone they don’t know is too much to ask them. Sometimes asking someone to sacrifice their entire family for a stranger is just too much. I’m sure you think I’m some horrible selfish person but its not as easy as you seem to want to pretend it is.” Draco fumed. 

Draco had seen firsthand the Dark Lord torturing people, and despite his rant to Harry, he felt deeply ashamed for his lack of action on behalf of the muggles that had been caught. He still remembered their faces, he doubted he could ever forget them. He still remembered, clear as day, what their screams sounded like. And yet he had done nothing. He was in a room full of Death Eaters, with no way of knowing who was genuinely loyal and who wasn’t. If he had show even the smallest hint of sympathy towards the victim, the would have been facing down dozens of wands. If the Dark Lord didn’t kill him for it someone else would have. 

But he still felt guilty. 

“What I don’t understand,” Harry said, not quite noticing Draco withdrawing into his memories, “is that they all know they could have their minds read at any time, but yet some of them aren’t loyal... how do they get away with that? Surely they have to agree enough to avoid being caught out.”

Draco sighed, explaining legilimency and occlumency was always tricky, especially to people who grew up like Harry, around muggles. They tended to have a very simplistic view of how the whole thing worked. 

“You can’t really have your mind read as casually as some people assume, the Dark Lord can’t look at someone and immediately know what they’re thinking, its a focused thing. You would feel someone poking around in your head, for one thing you start recalling memories that don’t make sense given the situation. There are things that clue you in to the fact that someone else is rifling around in there. Occlumency very rarely pushes someone out of your mind, it takes a lot of effort and for the Death Eaters would make themselves look suspicious by not allowing the Dark Lord into their mind. Its more about... redirecting the person who is rifling through your mind. Its about controlling what memories come forward so they can’t get what they’re looking for.”

“I don’t get it. I thought you had to clear your mind?”

“Sure” Draco agreed, “for some people having a clear mind works really well. If you sense your mind being attacked you can clear it of any thoughts at all if that comes more naturally to you. That way the person who is trying to break into your mind has nothing to snoop through. Its a bit of an obvious thing to do. My parents taught me to deliberately recall memories of yourself doing really boring things like your homework or doing what the person trying to get into your head is wanting to see. You’re trying to make yourself non suspicious and not worth spying on.”

Harry gaped, “are you joking? Snape tried to teach me occlumency in fifth year and I never understood any of that! He just kept shouting at me to clear my mind while digging through my head.”

Draco groaned, Severus had always been a big fan of trial by fire. He couldn’t imagine Harry who was so full of energy and life ever successfully clearing his mind, especially not at the drop of a hat. 

“That... doesn’t sound like helpful advice for you” Draco told him, trying to be diplomatic, “I can teach you some of what works for me though, thinking about something like the feeling of flying, or about your homework or trying to recall the spells you need to remember for various classes or even just thinking to yourself ‘breathe in, breathe out’ over and over keeps you from letting your mind drift- it is much easier for me to do than fully clear my mind. It might work for you too, I can’t imagine clearing your mind at the snap of your fingers would come very naturally to you.” He explained sympathetically.

“I don’t even know what it means!” Harry sighed “I was crap at it. And I’m usually about to go to sleep or something when I get the visions so I can’t just redirect my thoughts because I’m about to go to bed! I can’t control it, how do you even redirect your thoughts when you’re about to go to sleep.”

Draco scrunched his brows. The things Harry was describing really didn’t fit with being under legilimency. There were of course natural legilimens, who read minds constantly and unconsciously, but they were extremely rare and even they needed to be in close proximity to a person- Harry having his mind read and seeing visions from the Dark Lord at random when they were no where near each other didn’t make sense. 

“So wait,” he interrupted, “explain to me how you get these visions because I’ll be honest, they don’t sound like the kind of thing that occlumency can even help. I will still teach you more about occlumency if you want to know but really I don’t think I understand what you’re experiencing.”

“Its like I’m not even in my own body anymore, I look down and I don’t see my own hands anymore. In some ways it feels like a dream but its also a lot more realistic. There’s a part of me that is always aware that what is happening is real. I don’t have any control or anything like that- its really hard to explain properly I guess... I don’t know if any of this made any sense.”

“It does make sense but I don’t think what you’re describing is legilmency... I mean, I definitely think that you still need to learn to defend against it, but that isn’t at all what is going on with you in this case.”

“So what is it?”

“I don’t know... I’ve never really heard of any kind of connection like this... I’ll do some digging though and see what I can find out.”

Harry nodded, sighing heavily, “Thanks Draco.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine- just, I’m kind of exhausted of having all this crap constantly pile on. Its not enough to be prophesiesed to be the only one in the world who can kill some crazy, evil and is very close to immortal, but I also have to have some weird connection to him. Its not enough that I had my whole family taken away from me, I might end up having everyone else taken too. It’s like I’ve never been though enough you know, there always has to be something more added on top and at some point I might not be able to keep dealing with it all.”

Draco’s heart clenched in painful sympathy, “I know Harry. I’m sorry, I wish there was more I could do to help.”

“Honestly, just having someone to talk this out with helps. Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome Harry.” Draco smiled warmly, very pleased to have helped out, even a little bit. 

“Can I admit something?” Draco asked after a brief silence.

Harry nodded.

“I know that you hate these visions, and I hate that you get them too, but I am really grateful to hear that my parents are okay. Or, as okay as can be expected. Thank you for telling me that.”

“Its okay, if it were me I would be pretty worried too. Surprisingly I am relieved that they’re okay too.” Harry told him, and it was true, the sky must have fallen that Harry was genuinely relieved to hear that Lucius Malfoy was okay- but he supposed stranger things must have happened at some stage.


	23. Chapter 23

Though there was no denying that Gimmauld Place was in a better state than it had been, the led manor house was still difficult to live in alone. 

It no looked like it was at risk of falling apart at any second, nor did it look like it was rotting from the inside out. But there was still something oppressive about the emptiness of the house. 

Everywhere Draco went in the house he felt strikingly aware of the fact that he was the first person to be there in years. Though the dust and debris had been cleaned out, there was an almost tangible sense of hollowness that put him on edge. 

His own home was much bigger than the Black estate, but his mother had always made her presence very felt by anyone who entered the home. The house was big enough that he could easily go days without seeing her, but somehow the house just felt like Narcissa. 

Draco missed it desperately. 

Though he wouldn’t be selfish enough to admit it, he missed Harry too. He knew that Harry had a job to do, and he was unlikely to see him (in person) any time soon, but a large part of him genuinely hoped that he would show up one day and relieve Draco of the monotony that his life had become. He wouldn’t tell Harry that though. He had enough on his plate without feeling guilty or worried about Draco’s situation. Besides... how do you even tell someone that without sounding like a complete fop? “I don’t know why talking to you through a mirror isn’t enough Harry, there’s just something that always calms me down and makes me feel happier about having you near me.” 

He definitely couldn’t say that.

Still though, despite being an only child who was used to long stretches of time alone- Draco was struggling with the loneliness of being in the house by himself for so long. 

In an attempt to pass the time Draco began poking through his bedroom. The room had clearly been left undisturbed since its former inhabitant, his cousin Regulus, had passed away. 

Regulus had been his mother’s first cousin, but he had never known much about him. He knew of course that he had died young, but the circumstances had never even explained to him. Narcissa had been very close to Regulus and his death was something she never wanted to talk about, so Draco had never really grown to be curious about him. Sirius had been a big source of controversy within the Black family and Draco had always assumed that Regulus had been much like his brother- wild and unwilling to play the game by the rules that everyone else did. 

Walburga and Orion had been deeply ashamed by Sirius, they saw his sorting into Gryffindor, his unwillingness to follow the Dark Lord and his general scorn for everything his parents valued as worse than sin. They had thought of Sirius as the draft child that they got wrong before they could perfect the second one with Regulus. 

Though she rarely spoke of it, Narcissa had never had quite as aggressive a view of Sirius, like with her sister Andromeda, she never judged their hesitance towards the Dark Arts nor their desire for something other than the life that had been written out for them. She could understand that. But she had always seen their defection from the family as selfish. Andromeda running away meant that Narcissa and Bellatrix had been under even more scrutiny and pressure. Bellatrix had adored it, every vicious part of her nature was praised and flattered every day. With Andromeda gone, Bella was without a doubt the perfect replacement. Narcissa didn’t thrive nearly as well. When once Narcissa had been allowed to have friends wherever she found them (so long as she understood she still had to be married appropriately and couldn’t behave in any way that might jeopardise that happening) she had enjoyed a colourful and diverse friendship circle, but after her sister had run off everything she did was reported to her parents, she was, for the first time in her life, punished or who he chose to speak to. She was suffocating slowly under the weight of everything that was expected of her. She wanted her parents to be proud of her and for her family to love her. It wasn’t until years later that she came to understand that conditional love wasn’t really worth striving for, but by then resentment for her sister had started to creep in. 

Regulus had likely felt the same. It wasn’t until Sirius started to behave like a rebel that Regulus was pressured so intensely not to follow in his brother’s footsteps and to do ‘right’ by the family. 

Draco’s interest in his late cousin was growing the more he explored his room and poked through the house. There wasn’t much left to give any hints as to who Regulus was as a person. Draco knew that he had died when he was eighteen, only a year older than Draco now was. Since he had taken up residence in his room, Draco decided he had an obligation to get to know him. 

Which is what lead him to seeking out Kreacher. 

It was no secret that the elf had an insatiable obsession with the family he served, and ordinarily he could ramble on about members of the Black family until he was blue in the face. 

Which is what made his reaction to Draco’s query so startling. 

“Kreacher?” Draco had asked one morning as the elf tottered past him while he was enjoying his morning coffee, “Can you tell me anything about Regulus?”

“Oh yes sir! Kreacher is very happy to be talking about Master Regulus. Master was the kindest of Masters, such a clever Master and he is being the best Master any elf can be wanting.” 

Noticing that Kreacher was about to get lost on a ramble, Draco interrupted him, “I actually wanted to ask you about how he died.”

Kreacher’s ears visibly drooped, “Mistress says Master’s death is being a tragic accident.” He recited, clearly parroting back the story he had been told to recite.

“I just don’t understand,” Draco explained, “I have heard he was killed, then other people say he wasn’t. But I haven’t heard of anyone in my family doing any kind of investigation into what happened. If there was even the smallest hint that Regulus was harmed in foul play, I can’t understand why Aunt Walburga and Uncle Orion wouldn’t want whoever harmed him brought to justice. Especially after everything that happened with Sirius…” Draco trailed off. The more he had explored the house the more he had seen evidence of just how loved Regulus had been. Yet, after he had died it was as though he stopped existing. It didn’t add up. 

“Master Draco musn’t ask Kreacher such things…” the elf insisted, anxiously tugging on his hanging ears.

Draco raised his hands in surrender, “I’m sorry Kreacher, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and if you don’t want to talk about it I won’t make you. I suppose I just feel like its sad that I didn’t know anything about him, he’s my cousin you know? I might have grown up knowing him if something hadn’t happened, and you might be the only one who can tell me what really happened with him…” He explained, hoping his voice sounded as pathetic as possible. 

It really said a lot about how life was going for him that he was spending his morning trying to emotionally manipulate a house elf. 

He used to be a genuinely busy person. 

Kreacher looked terribly torn, he kept glancing towards the door to the hall where Walburga’s portrait hung, as though fighting the urge to go and ask her what to do. The instinct to defer to her judgement would likely never leave the elf- but Draco continued to stare intently at the elf, he would have to risk offending Draco if he really wanted his late Mistresses opinion.

“Does Aunt Walburga know what happened? Should I ask her myself?” Draco asked, hedging his bets. 

As expected, Kreacher’s eyes widened in alarm. “No! No Sir must not ask my poor mistress. Kreacher is promising Master Regulus that he is not telling Mistress. Oh it would break her poor heart to know the secrets Kreacher promised to be keeping.”

“Who asked you to keep secrets?” 

“Master Regulus, Sir. He is not wanting Mistress and Master to know what befell him.”

“So he knew? He knew he was going to die... it wasn’t an accident?”

Kreacher’s head shook from side to side, “I is saying too much!!”

Desperate now not to let the elf shut him out anymore Draco grabbed onto his little arm, “please Kreacher, please, just answer a few questions for me, you can tell me if you’re disobeying any orders, I won’t ask you to do that.” 

When the elf’s panicked breathing stabilised and he had drunk the glass of water Draco had fetched for him, he nodded.

“Who did Master Regulus ask you to keep these secrets from?” Draco asked, trying to keep his voice as pleasant ad friendly as possible.

“Mistress and Master.” The elf confessed.

“So you can talk to me about it without breaking your orders can’t you. I am not Aunt Walburga or Uncle Orion, did he ever ask you not to tell Mistress Cissy’s son?”

“Mistress Cissy’s son is to being born at the time.” Kreacher reminded him, arching a suspicious eyebrow. 

“Exactly,” Draco agreed, “so its not forbidden.”

The elf took a minute to consider the argument. It made sense. Master Regulus had never forbidden him from talking to Mistress Cissy Order son, he had never even mentioned Mistress Cissy. Maybe Kreacher had been a bad elf for not telling her sooner.

“Master Regulus is being the kindest of masters.” Kreacher began. Draco had to girt his teeth to fight back the urge to roll his eyes. He really didn’t want to sit through another speech about how wonderful Regulus had been, but it was essential that Kreacher felt safe enough to tell him everything, so he nodded in agreement. 

“Mistress and Master is being Noble Blacks, very much important and very much proud. They is being a family Kreacher is honoured to serve. Mistress is a beautiful lady, a perfect Mistress... but she is not being warm. Master Regulus is being very much warm. He is also being very sad. Bad Master Sirius is leaving Master Regulus alone for many years, when they is being small they is the best friends, Masters was always together, always playing. When Master Sirius is going to school he is stopping talking to my poor Master Regulus. Master is lonely, he is not having many friends - there is so few children worthy to play with such a fine and noble boy, and many is being very rough and very angry- Master Regulus is not liking it at all. He stays alone. 

When he is getting bigger, Bad Master Sirius is being cut out of the family after he is caught to be fraternising with half breeds and mud bloods like a bad, bad Master. It is being a very hard day for Master Regulus, he is crying for hours after Bad Master Sirius is leaving- but he is being good, he is hiding so Mistress and Master don’t see. They is being very angry with Master Regulus if they is knowing of his sadness. But they is starting to worry - the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient house of Black is being very Bad, it was important that Master Regulus be good so that the family is staying safe and strong, and pure- always pure. 

They is telling Master Regulus that he is being chosen to work with the Dark Lord. The day Mistress is finding the news she is weeping with joy, oh my Mistress is so proud of her boy! She is never ever before hugging him and telling him that he is a good Master and a good son, but on this day she says so, Master too. Master Regulus is happy for a time, though he is not wanting to come out of his room anymore. When he is he is the proudest and most perfect Master Kreacher is ever seeing. Mistress and Master is talking about how good Master Regulus is...

But one day, Master Regulus is confiding in Kreacher. He is telling Kreacher of the truth. The truth that no one is ever saying to Kreacher before. He is saying that the Dark Lord is bad, worse than Bad Master Sirius. He is saying that Mistress and Master is being bad - Kreacher is trying to tell him it is not possible, but he is not listening. Kreacher is saying to talk to Mistress and Master, they is explaining the right things. But is is being no good! 

Oh Kreacher is a bad elf! Such a bad, bad elf!! If I be showing him the right way, that Mistress is a good Mistress and Master is the best of Masters, then maybe Master Regulus is being okay- but Master Regulus is not okay... Kreacher is such a bad elf...” 

Draco’s heart clenched in sympathy for the poor thing. 

“Kreacher” He called to him, his voice understanding but firm. He pulled the elf’s little chin up to face him “you are not a bad elf. If Master Regulus thought you were a bad elf, he would never have trusted you as much as he did. You were probably the person he trusted the most in the world- that makes you a wonderful elf.”

Kreacher’s gigantic eyes filled with grateful tears as he absorbed Draco’s words. 

“M-Master... Master is telling Kreacher about the Dark Lord’s soul.”

“He knew about the Horcruxes?” Draco asked, very surprised. He never would have expected Regulus Black to have been involved enough in anything to find out something so secret. 

Kreacher nodded, “He is wanting to destroy them, he is finding one and deciding to destroy it. Master Regulus is coming home one day and asking for Kreacher. He is having a plan. Kreacher is wanting to help, he is also wanting to stop him. But he is telling Kreacher to trust him. Of course Kreacher is trusting him. One day later, Master Regulus said that the Dark Lord required an elf.”

“The Dark Lord required an elf?” Draco asked in surprise.

“Oh yes,’ moaned Kreacher. ‘And Master Regulus had volunteered Kreacher. It was an honour, said Master Regulus, an honour for him and for Kreacher, who must be sure to do whatever the Dark Lord ordered him to do … and then to c – come home.’  
Kreacher’s breath had quickened, soon coming in sobs.

“So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord did not tell Kreacher what they were to do, but took Kreacher with him to a cave beside the sea. And beyond the cave there was a cavern, and in the cavern was a great, black lake …”

Draco listened intently, completely immersed at this point in the story. He nodded silently, prompting the elf to continue. 

“… there was a boat … and we was sailing across the lake, in the middle there is being a small island and a b-basin, with a p-potion... and... and... he is ordering Kreacher to drink it... so Kreacher is drinking it... and as he drank, he saw terrible things … Kreacher’s insides burned … Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed … he made Kreacher drink all the potion … he dropped a locket into the empty basin … he filled it with more potion. And then the Dark Lord sailed away, luckily Kreacher is being called home by Master Regulus.”

“Master Regulus was very worried, very worried, when Kreacher is telling him what happened.’ croaked Kreacher. ‘Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden, and not to leave the house. And then … it was a little while later … Master Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell … and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord … he is drinking the potion, the very bad potion which is being so painful for Kreacher, but Master Regulus was determined. He told Kreacher to take the locket and when the basin is empty, to switch the real one with the fake one.” 

Kreacher paused his story to tell out a heartbroken sob.

‘And he ordered – Kreacher to leave – without him. And he told Kreacher – to go home – and never to tell my Mistress – what he had done – but to destroy – the first locket. And he drank – all the potion – and Kreacher swapped the lockets – and watched … as Master Regulus … was dragged beneath the water … and …”

“Okay, okay Kreacher you can stop now.” Draco assured him, pulling the elf into an awkward hug and rubbing his trembling back. 

“Kreacher is leaving Master Regulus to be taken by the infiri!! And he is failing to destroy the locket.”

“What happened to it?”

“It was stolen! Mundungus Fletcher came through the house after Master Sirius is passing away, he is taking so many treasures- nasty theiving best!”

“Oh Kreacher I’m sorry. I promise you though, your Master Regulus wouldn’t have blamed you, he would have been so proud of you.” Draco reassured. 

Kreacher gave him a sad watery smile which looked very out of place on his old sagging face.

That conversation changed a lot of things for Draco. He had never felt so much of a kinship with a person he had never met before. 

He could so easily have gone down the same path as Regulus, forced into a terrible situation with no way out. Regulus had tried to break away and make a difference of his own- but he had done so alone, and died for it. 

Draco was already one step ahead of Regulus, he had a friend on the outside of Death Eater influence. If he wanted to make a difference in this war, maybe he could. Maybe he could help finish the work his cousin tried to start. 

For the first time, Draco decided that hiding from this war wasn’t enough for him anymore. 

Just like his cousin, if he had to suffer or die in this war, he needed his death to mean something.


	24. Chapter 24

While Draco had set up a potions lab in Grimmauld place and was busying himself with brewing an endless supply of any potion he could think of that might be useful to Harry on his mission, Harry was hundreds of miles away, completely unaware of the mindset shift his friend had recently undergone.

 

Harry was instead caught up in frantic wedding planning.

 

Having never been to a wedding himself, he wasn’t sure how normal the absolute tornado of activity was. It seemed everywhere he looked there was someone arranging flowers, putting out food or assembling tables and chairs. He had never seen the Burrow so busy, nor so neat an organised. The last few days had consisted of cleaning every square inch of the property, everyone was completely exhausted, even Harry who was rather more accustomed to long days full of chores than everyone else was.

 

Unfortunately, his exhaustion had reached a point where he didn’t have time to call Draco on the mirror for a few nights at a time. He was finding himself falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. He felt terrible, knowing that Draco was likely to be waiting up to talk to him and he was constantly disappointing him- he felt worse to know that this was more than likely a trend that would continue, once he left wiht Ron and Hermione he doubted he would remain a stranger to exhaustion, and he certainly would have even less privacy than he did at the Burrow. Bunking with Ron certainly had one major advantage- Ron Weasley could sleep through literally anything.

 

So Harry was a bit lost, he decided as he dressed for the wedding. He was completely shattered, about to polyjuice himself to attend a wedding, and he missed Draco. It was probably weird, missing a friend so much after having only spoken to them a few days ago, but Harry couldn’t deny it to himself- besides he had missed Draco like a lost limb before he got the mirror. Somehow Draco had become his closest confidant, and he appreciated that he did the same for Draco in return.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by a delicate knock at his door.

 

On the other side stood Hermione, dressed in a flowing red dress that made her look far older and more feminine than Harry had ever seen her.

 

“You look really great Hermione” Harry told her, pleased to see a smile spread across her face at the compliment. Hermione very rarely received compliments on her appearance, it was something Harry noticed very early on. He wondered if she ever thought that was because she was less pretty than other girls- he hoped not. He had had plenty of conversations with Ron where he agonised over how to indicate to Hermione how he felt about her- he didn’t think she would want to hear that she was pretty, she was the kind of girl who valued her brain far too much, but it seemed to obvious to compliment how clever she was, everyone complimented her intelligence. Poor Ron, Harry had tried to argue that she would probably appreciate any compliment he directed to her, as long as it was genuine. Ron thought that sounded far too easy to be effective.

 

“Thank you, so do you.” Harry wanted to laugh, it really didn’t matter if he looked good or not, he was about to polyjuice into an anonymous Weasley relative. Besides, there was no one here he wanted to impress by looking attractive- that person was unfortunately elsewhere...

 

He stopped his thoughts firmly. It wouldn’t do him any good to go down that line of thinking. Not now anyway.

 

“Listen Harry,” Hermione began, getting straight to the point, “I wanted to talk to you quickly before the wedding starts.”

 

Harry nodded, gesturing for her to go on.

 

“I- well that is to say, Ron and I, we’ve been a bit worried that you’re getting a bit withdrawn from us. We know you’ve been through a lot recently and I’m sure the stress of our upcoming quest isn’t doing you any favours, but I just wanted to remind you that you don’t have to keep everything bottled up. Ron and I are here for you, and if you want to talk about anything we are happy to support you. I know you worry about burdening people but... well we’re your friends, we are happy to share that burden.”

 

“Oh,” Harry replied awkwardly, “thanks for that, I’m not trying to shut you guys out or anything, really, I’ve just been- I don’t know- processing stuff on my own...”

 

“Harry,” Hermione repeated, more sternly this time. “You can’t keep things bottled up inside. It isn’t good for you.”

 

“I’m not bottling things up!” Harry replied, frustrated. He loved Hermione, truly and genuinely, she was one of his favourite people in the world. But it had always irked him the way she would act like he owed it to her to tell her everything about himself. He couldn’t keep pieces to himself without her getting ‘cross’ or wanting to make her disproval known. She acted like being the ‘mum friend’ of the group was a burden that she had to carry because Ron and Harry weren’t able to look after themselves, but to Harry it felt more like a role she willingly took hold of herself.

 

“Ron said you’ve been silencing yourself when you sleep.” She challenged, raising an eyebrow as if she’d caught him out.

 

“Yeah. I have been. So what?”

 

“Don’t you think Ron should know if you’ve had a nightmare?”

 

“No actually, I really don’t see why me having a nightmare needs to be everyone else’s business.”

 

“Harry,” She said, taking her scolding tone again, “you know that your nightmares are more than just nightmares, you need to be responsible and tell us if theres something we need to know.”

 

Harry rolled his eyes, “and when there’s something you need to know I will tell you. I always do. And I will keep you informed if I have any visions, but regular nightmares aren’t something that I need to share with everyone.”

 

Sensing that her tactic wasn’t working, Hermione tried something else, “I don’t know why you’re being so hostile Harry, don’t you realise how much Ron and I are sacrificing to follow you into his mission? Can’t you imagine how hard it is to give up all of that and then feel like you aren’t trusted?” Her eyes filled with tears.

 

Harry’s stomach sank. He hated it when people cried.

 

He instinctively reached out and wrapped an arm around Hermione’s shoulder before apologising, “I didn’t mean to upset you, or Ron. I do trust you guys, more than anyone, I just feel a little shut in when it feels like everyone wants to know everything about me all the time. Its like I don’t get any kind of privacy or any part of my life to myself. Even when I’m sleeping, people want to know what’s going on. After a while it just becomes a little much.”

 

“But we’re friends, don’t you want to tell us all that stuff?”

 

“Do you want to tell me all about what you dreamed last night?”

 

Hermione’s cheeks flushed so quickly that Harry was instantly glad she didn’t answer the question. “I - Well I don’t have visions from Voldemort!”

 

“I don’t have them every night either, but it feels like on nights I don’t people assume I’m hiding stuff. Sometimes I’m just boring. Please let me be.”

 

Hermione nodded, the blush slowly fading from her cheeks. “Come on, lets go enjoy the wedding.”

 

***

 

The ceremony was beautiful and though he wouldn’t admit it in a hurry, Harry felt the week’s work that had gone into making the Burrow wedding ready had been very much worth it.

 

Despite his scarred face Bill looked happier than Harry had ever even anyone look. His smile spread across his face so widely it looked like it was threatening to split his face in two. His eyes were soft though, whenever he looked at Fleur, glowing like an angel in her wedding gown- he had come to look frightening since his attack, but when he looked at Fleur suddenly he had the softest, sweetest expression that Harry had ever seen someone make.

 

He really looked every inch of a man in love.

 

It wasn’t something Harry had ever given much thought to, falling in love and getting married. Though he doubted he would live long enough to experience it himself, and truthfully even before the prophecy had been told to him he hadn’t thought he would be the type for it-for the first time he found himself feeling slightly mournful at the thought of potentially missing out on that.

 

He hoped Draco had the chance to find that though.

 

His conversation with Draco from a few nights ago came back to his head (though, if he were honest, it had scarcely left his head since it happened).

 

Draco would likely be wanting a man to marry.

 

He knew Draco’s parents likely wouldn’t allow it, but if Draco made it though the war (and Harry was determined that he would), he figured he deserved happiness with whoever he damn well wanted. Besides, if Narcissa and Lucius were anything like how Draco described them, they would be so happy to find out he was alive that they would let him do whatever he wanted.

 

He pictured it. Draco would be the type to have a lavish, extravagant wedding, he would find dress robes that made him look absolutely stunning and would likely strut around a wedding venue proudly showing off his new husband. It would be amazing and so classically Draco.

 

Mostly he thought about how wonderful it would be to see Draco as happy as Bill and Fleur were now. In the brief time that they had been friends Harry had learned how handsome Draco was when he was happy- but the brief instances of happiness that Harry saw had been under the cover of intense stress and angst. He had never seen Draco purely happy. He was sure it would be beautiful.

 

He wondered vaguely what kind of men Draco preferred, it wasn’t a question Harry was brave enough to ask him, but he had thought about it. Before he had known about Draco’s preferences he had assumed that Draco would like girls like Fleur, girls who were soft, delicate and sweet- very agreeable and quiet. Draco was so traditional in so many ways it seemed natural that he would gravitate to the natural choice of woman, certainly the type Lucius was most likely to approve of. But somehow he couldn’t imagine Draco with a fragile and delicate boy- for one thing, Draco looked about as delicate as Harry thought boys were capable of being. There was no way he would find someone who was as... angelic as himself.

 

Maybe he preferred the other end of the spectrum, big hulking men with loads of muscles and a chest full of hair. Harry wrinkled his nose, it was so firmly the opposite of himself (not that that mattered)- he just didn’t like the idea of that.

 

So he imagined someone faceless instead- someone slightly shorter than Draco’s tall frame, but who balanced him out by being... slightly stockier, with darker colouring, who was a bit scruffier than Draco’s eternally perfect aesthetic.

 

That would be nice.

 

For him.

 

As in, if that was the kind of thing Draco wanted, Harry would be supportive- not that Harry had to approve or that he wouldn’t be supportive if he went with someone not like that at all. It was just a fantasy.

 

.

 

..

 

...

 

NOT that he was having fantasies about Draco!

 

No.

 

He was just being a good mate. Same as he would with Ron- he would be supportive of anyone Ron went out with as long as they made him happy. Same thing. 

 

The rest of the wedding went well, Harry made more of an effort to engage in conversation to prevent his mind from wandering into dangerous territory and he found himself starting to enjoy himself.

 

He had a long and interesting chat with Ron’s great aunt, with a friend of Dumbeldore and with Xenophillius Lovegood- Luna’s father.

 

The reception was going perfectly- until of course, it had to be ruined.

 

Out of nowhere a lynx patronus bounded its way through the gathered guests and delivered Kingsley Shaklebot’s unnerving message“The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.”

 

From there the wedding dissolved into chaos. People were running, grabbing their loved ones and sprinting for the apparition points- it wasn’t long before the wards were being torn down from the inside as guests tried desperately to get out before the danger arrived.

 

Preparing himself to stand his ground and defend the Burrow alongside the Weasleys Harry was sharply pulled away by Hermione. She, Ron and Harry disapparated into the middle of central London.

 

Hermione truly was a genius, Harry would later reflect. She had bee prepared for them to take off at a moment’s notice for weeks and had a bag full of supplies on her at all times, which came in very handy as they made their escape.

 

Not long after finding refuge and trying to get their bearings over a cup of coffee, they were accosted again.

 

They were out in the open and exposed, if Kingsley had been right and the Ministry was finally, as they had been fearing, under Death Eater control, there was nowhere safe for them. They needed to get somewhere unplottable and where they couldn’t be followed to. He still didn’t know how the attackers in the cafe had known where to find him so quickly and he didn’t want to hide out and see how quickly they could do it again.

 

There was only one place to go.

 

He had been worrying and stressing over this moment for so long it almost seemed right that it would only happen in a life or death scenario- he doubted he could have made himself do it otherwise. But Ron and Hermione’s safety was on the line. He could handle them being angry at him if they were safe.

 

Oh they were going to be so angry.

 

Opening his eyes after the apparation Harry took a deep breath.

 

They were stood out in the familiar street full of the tall, old terrace homes that stared down at them from all sides. Number Twelve stood, visible to its secret keepers, in between Eleven and Thirteen. Ron and Hermione led the way as they rushed up the stone steps before Harry tapped his wand on the front door once.

 

After a series of metallic clicks and the clatter of an old chain, the door swung open and they all went inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand the plot thickens!  
> Thank you so much to everyone leaving lovely comments and giving me kudos they are all making me smile very much :)


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!  
> I normally post a bit of chapter notes at the end of the chapter but for this one I thought I would put them at the beginning to warn anyone who hasn't paid attention to the tags on this story to be aware that this chapter contains some sexual content.   
> I will mark the scene that some of you might want to skip over. It goes right from the beginning to the line of asterisks - from there on it should be fine for anyone wanting to keep their reading material on the more innocent side.   
> Anyway, to all of you who have been leaving lovely comments and kudos, as always I want to say a big thank you and I hope you continue to enjoy!

Late that same night, Draco curled up in his bed as usual, his mind drifting (as it so often did) to thoughts of Harry. He had called on the mirror the night before to apologise and tell him that he wouldn’t be able to have their regular scheduled call that night- apparently the eldest Weasley was getting married to the Beauxbatons Triwizard champion. He didn’t particularly care though he hoped Harry was having a good night.

 

Though, that wasn’t entirely true.

 

In fact, he really hoped that Harry was thinking of him…

 

That was pretty awful of him, but really he hoped Harry was at the wedding thinking about how much more fun he would be having if Draco was there. Harry often told him that he wished Draco was around. It was nice to imagine a time when they could hang out and do normal stuff, not just use each other to emotionally offload and distract themselves from life being shit. It would be fun to do normal stuff with him.

 

Like going to events.

 

Together?

 

No, that wouldn’t happen, if they went to events together it would always be just as mates. And that was fine. Harry wasn’t even a little interested in him in that regard.

 

But lately, it had been one of his most recurring fantasies to wonder what it might be like if that wasn’t the case.

 

He was fantasising about Harry Potter having fantasies about him. He was officially pathetic. And potentially creepy. Yeah, if Harry knew he would definitely find him creepy.

 

Still though, he couldn’t help imagining how great it would be, Harry confessing that he’d always found Draco irresistibly attractive. He imagined Harry’s bright and expressive green eyes looking him up and down and the sides of his lips pulling into a cocky smirk as he stepped into Draco’s personal space and admitted that he had been wanting him for ages…

 

Shaking his head, Draco rolled over in his bed, trying to force the thoughts from his head.

 

It didn’t work for very long.

 

Soon he went back to thinking about the bright smile that lit Harry’s face whenever they spoke through the mirrors. He thought about the feeling of being pressed against Harry’s body when he had hugged him goodbye. He thought about the golden tan tone of his skin and imagined what favours his Quiddich obsession had done to his physique.

 

He started to think about getting to touch. Harry’s hands had always been so warm, and Draco wondered if the rest of him would be just as warm. It was such a shame that Harry insisted on wearing clothes so Draco had never really been able to find out.

 

Oh.

 

Harry without clothes.

 

That would be something he would very much like to see one day. Very much.

 

He wondered some more about Harry’s chest, how toned it was, whether he would have chest hair or not… or just following down from his navel… down to a bit lower…

 

He couldn’t help but wonder if Harry was well hung. Purely out of academic interest, the person fated to save the wizarding world ought to be packing something pretty impressive. Of course, even without all that, Harry was the kind of person who could have the most gorgeous gear in the world down there and he would still blush and get flustered if anyone commented on it.

 

Who cared how big it was- it was Harry’s, and Draco wanted to know what it looked like!

 

Picturing himself getting the chance to explore the expanse of Harry’s (undoubtedly) beautiful body stirred an undeniable arousal in Draco. He wanted nothing more than to act on it, but took a pause, was he allowed to think of Harry that way? Would it totally ruin their friendship somehow?

 

Surely if Draco never told him it couldn’t ruin anything…

 

Eventually deciding ‘fuck it’, Draco shimmied out of his pyjama bottoms, his cheeks flushing scarlet despite being all alone in his room.

 

He slowly wrapped his fingers around his hardening length, trying desperately to ignore the feeling of guilt bubbling within him.

 

His mind immediately went back to Harry, Harry was so beautifully open with how he was feeling he wondered how that would translate to more intimate moments. Would his face betray his pleasure as easily as it did his other emotions? Would Draco be able to read Harry’s enjoyment of their… touching, like he had read so many other emotions.

 

He thought more about Harry’s solid body, about how good it would be to explore it, to see Harry’s reactions to his touch (which in his fantasies were always favourable).

 

Then a new idea struck him- he started imagining Harry returning the favour.

 

Harry’s hands searching across Draco’s chest, lower and lower. His own hand stroked his length as he imagined it replaced by Harry’s. He bit his lip, determined not to make a sound, somehow enjoying the thought of his friend out loud seemed worse than doing it in silence, even in an empty house.

 

Gaining momentum he panted softly as he imagined a day where he might openly enjoy Harry’s body and where Harry might enjoy his in return. He imagined Harry’s hands wrapped around his length, and his own holding Harry’s in return. He wondered what it might look like to see Harry Potter.. no, just Harry, come apart through his actions.

 

Furiously pumping his erection into his fist Draco’s body tensed, his muscles tightened and his fantasy kicked into high gear- He imagined the taste, of anything Harry would allow him the taste of- he imagined Harry’s cock, his arse, his everything all laid out in front of Draco- he hadn’t seen it yet but he knew it had to be beautiful.

 

He hoped beyond anything that Harry might have similar thoughts about him one day. Maybe Harry would wonder what Draco looked like, what Draco would taste like… Oh Merlin… Maybe someday he might even find out.

 

His mind supplied an image of the beautiful moment, Harry kneeling between his thighs, Draco’s cock disappearing past his stretched pink lips.

 

The thought sent Draco firmly over the edge, spilling himself beneath the covers as his body clenched tightly before finally relaxing.

 

A moan broke through his careful silence, muffled as he turned his face into his pillow, unwilling to admit, even to himself, how desperately he had wanted to shout Harry’s name.

 

He panted silently to himself as he unwound, taking a moment to sit in what he had done. He couldn’t tell himself that he and Harry were nothing more than friends anymore (at least from where Draco was), and though no one knew, and would never find out, he felt that suddenly his relationship with Harry had undergone another radical shift. He didn’t know if he was ready to face it.

 

Casting a quick selection of cleaning charms, Draco tried to return everything to normal, he redressed himself and curled back up beneath the covers, wanting nothing more than to put the whole thing behind him.

 

But he couldn’t, now that he had acknowledged how he had come to feel about Harry, he didn’t think he could go back to normal anymore.

 

Trying to will his body to relax and accept sleep, he guiltily tried to bask in his afterglow.

 

Until he heard a sound.

 

***********************************************************************

 

 

Grimmauld place might look and feel a lot less like a mausoleum in the last few weeks, but it had remained steadfastly silent. Kreacher was the only other living occupant in the house, was always completely silent. To hear a noise, and… voices? Downstairs put all of Draco’s nerves immediately on edge.

 

Shaking slightly he grabbed his wand and climbed out of bed and out of the bedroom.

 

From down the stairs he heard a group of people talking.

 

“Can you believe how different it looks here? I can’t believe we had to live in this place when it was a dump and the second we turn around and leave it turns into this! This would have been awesome to live in!” A loud voice complained.

 

“Ronald!” Snapped another, Draco cursed, Granger, and Weasley were here! They could not be here! That meant Harry was here… that was both a very good and a very bad thing given the course his evening had taken… Scrambling to get out of sight and figure out what to do Draco almost didn’t hear Granger continue.“There’s a good chance that this could still be a trap, give me a moment, _homenum revelio”_

 

Draco swore as Granger’s spellwork immediately alerted the group to his presence. Taking a deep breath, he crossed his fingers that Harry had already told them about him, that maybe that was why he brought them here in the first place. Maybe this wasn’t going to be terrible.

 

“Malfoy!” Weasley sneered, his voice dripping with venom at the sight of him.

 

All thoughts of a miracle making things turn out alright left his head. This was going to be a long night.

 

“Weasley.” Draco nodded, feigning nonchalance “what are you doing here?”

 

“What am I doing here? Me? Are you serious? What the fuck are you doing here? This isn’t your house!”

 

“Its more my house than it is yours.” Draco retorted, trying desperately not to try and look at Harry for backup.

 

“Actually, I think you’ll find its Harry’s house.” Hermione told him, a fierce glare gracing her face.

 

It wasn’t that Draco could blame either of them for their reactions, in fact he was mildly surprised that they hadn’t started firing curses the moment they laid eyes on him. That being said, being on the receiving end of such hostility immediately raised Draco’s defensiveness.

 

Fortunately Harry noticed Draco pulling himself up straighter and pushing his chest out slightly- he knew he was getting defensive and would likely say something to piss Ron and Hermione off further. So he did something really stupid.

 

He intervened.

 

“He’s here because I let him stay here.” Harry confessed, bracing himself for an explosion.

 

Though Draco could see no way that Harry could have got out of telling his friends the truth (or at least some of it) it surprised him how touched he felt to hear Harry confess even the smallest thing about his changed relationship with Draco.

 

Granger’s eyebrows shot up near her hairline, though she refrained from saying anything.

 

Weasley on the other hand, did not.

 

“Bullshit you did!” He shouted, looking very ready to throw a punch at Draco.

 

Draco took a subtle step backwards, he said nothing.

 

“Yeah, I did, listen guys I need to tell you about something…” Harry began, running an awkward hand through his hair.

 

“Do you want me to give you a minute?” Draco asked quietly. He didn’t really want to draw more attention to himself, but he knew this would be a tough conversation and it would most likely only be harder if he was there.

 

“Not a chance Malfoy, you’re not sneaking off, I want my eye on you in case you try something shifty.” Weasley sneered, his voice dripping with venom.

 

“He’s not going to try anything shifty” Harry tried, nobody listened to him.

 

Draco simply nodded. It sucked but he could hardly blame Weasely for his suspicion of him. If Draco was truly the person that he acted like at school, who he had behaved like to Weasley and Granger for the whole time he had known them, then he absolutely would be trying something shifty. He knew what his reputation was and he couldn’t begrudge them their suspicion. So he stayed quiet.

 

Harry sighed heavily, he had known for months that eventually this would all have to come out, but now that the moment to reveal everything to his best friends was upon him, he had no idea what the words were to explain.

 

Leading everyone to the kitchen, which like the rest of the house, looked elegant, clean and new for the first time in Harry’s recollection. He busied himself with pouring everyone a cup of tea to try and gather his thoughts.

 

It was probably the most awkward cup of tea any of them had ever had.

 

Ron was nearly vibrating with the desire to start shouting.

 

“Okay so Draco, as it turns out isn’t much like how he’s been acting at school. He’s actually really cool. He and I got into a fight a couple months ago, like we have done heaps of times before, but this time things kind of escalated and well… I won’t go into details but Draco suddenly seemed horrified and really upset. We got to talking and I slowly started to get to know him, for who he really is, not who he pretends to be. I got to learn that he hasn’t had a lot of choices in regards to the whole evil little shit thing he had going on. I guess I had always seen Slytherins and Purebloods as being evil because they chose to be, I always saw them as being hateful and greedy and spending time with Draco has shown me that a lot of them are really trapped. It taught me a lot. But more than that, we just started to become friends. We have a lot of stuff in common, and I like talking to him and hanging out with him. When I found out that he was in danger I offered him Grimmauld Place to stay in and hide away in so that his family wouldn’t get in any trouble from him disappearing. So thats pretty much where we’re at.”

 

“Have you lost your mind?” Ron asked after a long silence.

 

“I have to agree with Ron here Harry, do you not here how insane that sounds?” Hermione added.

 

“Look, I know its weird, I’ve had a long time to get used to this, I’m not asking you guys to be okay with it all straight away. I just really want you guys to trust me and keep an open mind, see for yourself over a bit of time how different he is to how we thought.” Harry pleaded.

 

“Hasn’t it crossed your mind at any point that this is all a trap or something? Do you have any idea how stupid you sound- trusting Malfoy? Honestly Harry thats insane!” Ron protested.

 

Draco cleared his throat, flinching slightly at the glares that immediately turned his way. “I know full well that I have been completely awful to you and I won’t try and offer any excuses, Harry has covered that for me, instead I will just ask you to give me a chance. I hope after some time I can earn your trust, if not then I won’t try and force my way into your group.”

 

The apology did nothing to soften the severity of the looks directed at him.

 

He hadn’t expected it to, but it had needed to be said.

 

Instead he went back upstairs and pretended he couldn’t hear the raised voices and shouting echoing from downstairs.

 

Part of him wanted desperately to go back down and defend Harry, hating that he left him to face his friends’ anger alone- but he knew his presence would only make things worse.

 

He was grateful to hear that he was being defended, but part of him couldn’t help but worry that it wouldn’t take too much pressure from Weasley and Granger to turn Harry’s favour off him. He wouldn’t even blame him if he chose his best friends over him. Maybe their friendship had always had an expiry date.

 

Squeezing his eyes shut he cast a silencing spell around his room, unwilling to hear any more. If Harry decided to make him leave he could come and tell him in person.


	26. Chapter 26

Fortunately for Draco, Harry didn’t come in to tell him to get out of his house in the middle of the night.

 

Unfortunately, he didn’t come in to say anything else either.

 

Draco didn’t know what he expected, a heartfelt reunion, any kind of reunion suddenly felt rediculous to have expected. The sunken feeling in his stomach made him feel sick. Now that Weasley and Granger

Harry didn’t come up to Draco’s room to kick him out of his house that night.

 

But he didn’t come up to say anything else either.

 

Draco woke in the early hours of the morning and lay staring at his ceiling, unable to muster up the courage to go downstairs and face the ‘golden trio’.

 

He didn’t know what he ha expected really, a heartfelt reunion suddenly felt extremely sad to have wanted. He thought though, that it wasn’t unreasonable to expect some kind of reunion. Something, anything, just to prove that everything that had changed between them hadn’t been all in his head.

 

They had always known that what they had was fragile. Draco had been all too aware that if Granger and Weasley voiced any kind of opposition to Harry and Draco’s friendship that it was all over. Harry would never put Draco ahead of them. Draco wasn’t even sure he wanted him to. As much as he felt the pair were too demanding of Harry and were unreasonable when it came to their expectations of him- they had the ability to help him with his mission. They could protect him in ways that Draco couldn’t.

 

Despite how much of an idiot Draco thought he was, Weasley was the first friend Harry ever had. A rejection coming from someone so symbolic of his ability to be accepted would crush Harry.

 

Draco didn’t want that. 

 

But he also didn’t want to roll over and accept that his friendship with Harry was over. Harry meant a lot to him, more than he had ever expected him too, more than was probably healthy, he wouldn’t give that up just because a swotty know it all and a half rate Quiddich player told him to.

 

Invigorated by his pep talk, Draco forced himself out of bed and dressed for the day. Smart enough to look good (on the very slim off chance that Harry noticed...) but not so smart as to look the part of the Pureblood Prince that Granger and Weasley were expecting him to be.

 

He took a few deep breaths before exiting his room and descending into the lion’s den.

 

The tension in the room was thick- so much so that Draco started to feel too big for his skin the moment he stepped in.

 

Weasley and Granger were sitting on one side of the kitchen table, lose together and glaring towards Harry, who sat on the other side.

 

He looked exhausted.

 

His hair was wilder than ever, sticking up at all kinds of odd directions. He had deep circles under his eyes and he was sitting with his shoulders hunched and body curled in on itself. It was a terrible sight.

 

Harry for his part, had a long night. The arguing hadn’t stopped for a long time. He agreed with Ron and Hermione on some points, he shouldn’t have blindsided them with Draco and should have warned them before coming into Grimmauld place that he was there. He should have explained bout their friendship a long time ago.

 

He disagreed with them on some other points though, namely ‘Malfoy is evil’, ‘you’re insane’ and ‘he’s a Death Eater, he’s obviously tricked you!’

 

Despite how prominent Draco was in Harry’s current state of exhaustion, he couldn’t deny the feeling of his sprits lifting as Draco walked into the room.

 

He looked good. Better than he did even before the stress and awfulness of the year before. He had gained back some of the weight he had lost during his aforementioned stress and awfulness, he was dressed more casually than Harry had ever seen - something he found oddly suited the blond. How Draco could look like a model in clothes that would make Harry look like a bum, he would never know.

 

“Malfoy” Ron hissed, ever agressive instinct he had rising to the surface.

 

Harry flinched at the tone, though he couldn’t even blame Ron for it. There was a time he took such a tone with Draco, and Ron had been too much of a victim of Draco’s bullying to ever feel prepared to give him a chance.

 

“Weasley. Good morning” Draco replied in as cordial a tone as he was capable.

 

Harry could almost see the self restraint Draco was using pulsing though him. He knew exactly how badly Draco would want to retort, to say something spiteful to get the upper hand now that he felt exposed and vulnerable. But he held back.

 

Harry wanted to hug him.

 

But that would most likely just make things a lot worse.

 

The silence stretched between everyone for far longer than anyone was comfortable with.

 

“So... Its amazing how good the house is looking isn’t it?” Hermione mused, deciding to change the subject for a while. She would talk to Harry privately once her argument was fully prepared. Mentally she was already constructing what she would say, but she needed to buy for some extra time.

 

“Yes its been very rewarding seeing how the house has refurbished itself over the last few weeks” Draco agreed, politely trying to engage Granger in conversation. He felt painfully awkward doing it but the animosity was far worse.

 

“It changed since you’ve been here?” Granger asked, her eyebrows rising in surprise.

 

“Proabably wants to show off for another evil Pureblood moving in. Missed the likes of Sirius’ family.” Weasley sneered.

 

Harry fidgeted nervously in his seat.

 

Draco bit his tongue in an effort to bite back an angry retort “its pretty close I suppose...”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Granger said, “the house isn’t sentient, it can’t miss people or change its appearance at will.”

 

“Of course it can” Draco said, “did you really think a noble pureblood family’s anscestral home would look so run down in its natural state? The poor house was depressed. Grim old place indeed. But no matter, I spoke to Aunt Walburga‘ portrait and she lifted the spell on the house.”

 

The explanation did nothing to lessen the glares being directed at him.

 

“Look, I know none of you are happy to see me and I can’t blame you for it. I know I’ve been awful to both of you for as long as you’ve known me and I’m not going to ask you for your forgiveness. There is some good news though, I found RAB! I wanted to tell you earlier but with the wedding and all you weren’t answering the mirror” Draco said, directing the final part more to Harry.

 

It was a very badly miscalculated move.

 

“Harry” Hermione’s voice said dangerously, “How does Malfoy know about RAB?”

 

“I - well, I might have told him.. just a little bit... about- well I mean I might have told him everything.” Harry confessed, stumbling and stuttering his way through a truly pathetic explanation.

 

Granger really could keep the leash tight on that boy.

 

Weasley’s reaction was as aggressive as it was predictable. “What the fuck Harry! We couldn’t tell our families or anyone what was going on and all this time you were gussying up to Malfoy and telling him everything! Who else knows? Did you take out an ad in the Daily Fucking Prophet and not tell us about it too?”

 

“I wasn’t just telling anyone! Dumbledore told me I could tell him.” Harry defended meekly.

 

He hated fighting with his friends, it was the worst thing in the whole world having their disapproval and anger directed so forcefully at him. He wanted to run, to leave and not come back, he hated feeling so small- like a child who was being told off for misbehaving.

 

“Dumbledore knew!!” Hermione and Ron exploded.

 

“You told Dumbledore about this whole thing and not us? I thought you trusted us!”

 

“I do trust you! You know I do, I just knew that you would be angry and you wouldn’t listen if I explained everything. I was afraid you would have reacted exactly the way you’re reacting now... Draco and I have been friends for a few months and its been going really well and I’ve gotten to see how different he is from the person I always thought he was... the person everyone thought he was.” Harry sighed, lifting his glasses and rubbing his eyes before continuing.

 

“I guess we realised that we have a lot in common and when he told me about how he has to play the part of the Pureblood asshole he’s always been and all the crap he’s been going through... I don’t know... we started to get close and I felt sorry for him. And he could understand a lot of what I was dealing with. I was such a mess last year... the weight of all the crap everyone expected from me was crushing me and I just really needed someone who I could vent it all too.

 

I would have talked to you guys about it but you expect me to just pull a solution out of thin air. You guys are my family and I love you both, but on days when I wanted to leave and never look back, I felt so guilty because you guys were counting on me too. With Draco, especially in the beginning, I could tell him everything I was thinking completely honestly because I didn’t have to feel guilty if I wasn’t living up to his expectations... he didn’t have any expectations of me and it was really liberating... I am so sorry about how this all came out though... I’m sorry for a lot of things...”

 

“I think we need to check you for curses and potions that could be altering your state of mind.” Hermione declared. “The Black library is pretty extensive, I’m sure they’ll have something in there on how to check for this kind of thing.”

 

“What? Hermione, no!” Harry protested, “I know this is all a bit of a nasty surprise for you but I am completely in sound mind and I kind of hate that as soon as I do something you don’t like you want to have me checked down for curses!”

 

“This isn’t about being controlling!” She snapped, “But you can’t deny for the person Malfoy has always been around all of us, this wouldn’t be entirely out of character. Either we get you checked for curses and potions or I say we kick Malfoy out.”

 

“We are NOT kicking Draco out of here” Harry declared, his voice growing loud and angry at the suggestion. None of how this was going was what he wanted and he felt terrible enough subjecting Draco to all of this... he would be damned if he broke his promise for a safe house.

 

Draco watched on silently, knowing that if he spoke now he would just make everything worse.

 

“Then you won’t mind if I check that you’re being stupid on your own and not because of any outside tampering.”

 

Harry sighed in defeat and nodded his head. Draco knew the test would turn up negative, Harry could famously withstand the Imperius curse, he wasn’t sure what spell or potion Granger thought he might have been able to concoct that was more powerful than that. Even it if existed, he knew he had never done such a thing. The fact that Harry didn’t seem even a little worried about the possibility of any sort of tampering made Draco want to smirk proudly.

 

He didn’t though.

 

That definitely wouldn’t help things.

Late that night Harry tossed and turned in bed, unable to go to sleep. He was completely miserable and it was all his fault.

 

Hermione and Ron were angry because he messed everything up with them, handling the whole situation entirely wrong front he beginning and hurting two of the people who meant the most to him in the world.

 

And Draco... Draco had gone to bed that looking so resigned and worn that Harry’s heart had clenched painfully at the sight. Draco deserved so much better.

 

He needed to give Ron and Hermione space. The best he could hope for now was that if they spent enough time with Draco around they would see for themselves that he was different from what they thought. They might soon start to understand what he was trying to tell them.

 

Maybe.

 

Hopefully.

 

But with Draco, he might be able to patch that up...

 

Harry pushed himself out of bed and slowly opened the door to Sirius’ old room. He tiptoed slowly down the hall and was about to press Draco’s door open when he heard a sound.

 

“Going somewhere?”

 

It was Ron, sitting in a seat across from the entrance to Draco’s room. He blended so well into he darkness around him that Harry hadn’t noticed him sitting there.

 

“We aren’t going to let you in there until Hermione checks you over and you’ve got her all clear.”

 

“I don’t need her permission you know!” Harry fumed.

 

“Sure you don’t- but if you don’t wait for her okay then you are completely choosing Malfoy over us. Malfoy Harry, how did that even happen?”

 

Harry gaped for a moment, lost for words, “well we started talking...”

 

“No, don’t give me the bullshit you told us earlier about finally finding someone to understand you. I know its a load of crap. But what do you care what I think anymore? I can’t believe you would keep such a huge secret. Its like I don’t even know you anymore” Ron said, glaring at Harry.

 

“What would you have done if I had told you though? There’s no way you would have supported me, I didn’t want to have to chose!”

 

 

“Supported you? No, of course not! How could I? You want to betray Hermione and I and we’re meant to just be okay with that?”

 

“How am I betraying you?”

 

“Are you joking? You can forgive him for the shit he’s done to you, thats your business, but by being his friend its like you’ve decided that all the shit he’s done to us is fine by you as well- all the shit he’s said about my family, all the time he’s used that awful word to describe Hermione, its like you decided that doesn’t even matter. I just thought we meant more to you than that. I would never be friends with someone who had treated you that way.”

 

“He’s not really like that though!” Harry protested.

 

“At a certain point, how you’re behaving is who you are. You can’t separate the two that cleanly. If he was acting like an arse, and making people feel awful all the time, you can’t just turn around and say ‘he didn’t mean it’ and act like none of that counts.”

 

Harry swallows heavily.

 

“I don’t know what to say...” He confessed.

 

“The really shitty thing,” Ron said, “is that when Hermione does whatever test she comes up with, I don’t know what is going to be worse, that you’ve been taken advantage of and that Malfoy has cursed you and none of us noticed, making us the shittest friends in the world- or that you did it all on purpose, making you the shittest friend in the world. Either way... I thought we were stronger and better than that...”

 

Not knowing what to say Harry returned to his room and curled up in a little ball on Sirius’ bed.

 

Taking out his mirror fragment he quietly whispered Draco’s name.

 

“Harry?” Draco asked, his face swimming into view in the mirror.

 

“I am so sorry about today, I’m the worst friend in the whole world, to you and to Ron and Hermione... you all deserve so much better.”

 

“Oh don’t give me that Harry” Draco snapped, “I don’t want to hear that. You gave me a second chance when I completely didn’t deserve it. You gave me a place to hide away. You’re the best person I’ve ever had the chance to get to now and I hate seeing how this is tearing you up. I know that your friends are important to you and I really admire that about you, but you’re allowed to be your own person. But I don’t want to be the reason you’re so miserable. If you really want to you can ask me to leave, I wouldn’t hold it against you. I don’t want to be the reason that you have to be fighting with your best friends.”

 

“But you’re one of my best friends too... and I don’t want to have to chose. I’m always having to sacrifice something and I’m sick of it.” Harry took a deep breath “and honestly... you’re the first one to tell me that you would step back to stop me from having to chose, because you know how awful that would be for me... the fact that you would do that for me... it means so much to me. I can’t lose you. Would you be willing to put up with all of this crap for a bit longer for me?”

 

“I don’t want to lose you either Harry. Don’t worry, I’m used to people being angry with me, I can deal with it for a little bit longer.”

 

Harry’s answering smile was so bright and relieved it made Draco’s stomach flutter pleasantly. He would do absolutely anything to get that smile.

 

He was so screwed.


	27. Chapter 27

In the morning nothing had resolved, though of course it hadn’t. 

Draco and Harry however, were feeling slightly better. They had stayed up well into the night talking, reassuring each other in equal measure that things would work out and just generally reaffirming their friendship.

“I mean, I know this has all sort of blown up in my face, but I’m really glad you’re here.” Harry had told him, a small smile spreading across his face, Draco had watched the tiny little reflection and had to suppress a violent urge to say ‘fuck it’ and go through Weasley to go and see Harry in person. He was far too adorable sometimes.

But Harry would probably have found it weird... so he stayed put. 

“I’m really glad you’re here too.” Draco had confessed, though he was sure it was painfully obvious that he was happy Harry was around. 

“You’re just happy to have someone other than Kreacher for company” Harry teased. 

“Don’t take that as an insult Potter, Kreacher can be lovely company” Draco laughed.

“Ha! You just like having someone grovelling after you all the time.”

Draco snorted, “as if I need an elf to grovel over me if I’m wanting some flattery.”

Harry’s eyes had wandered appreciatively over the expanse of Draco that he could see in his mirror shard. Of course, he barely needed to look at the blond to know that he was right, Draco was undeniably gorgeous. Even he could see that. 

Draco was right, he could easily get some freely given flattery anywhere. 

He’d never considered it before, but Draco probably had people falling all over him all the time, girls probably threw themselves at him at any opportunity, though Draco of course wouldn’t have been looking for that kind of attention (Harry’s stomach twisted at the reminder), but he was sure even other boys would have found Draco attractive. They would have to have been stupid not to see it. 

He tried not to think about why the thought upset him so much. Of course people would find Draco attractive, it was obvious. And there would probably have been people who were brave enough to approach Draco and do something about their attraction... maybe Draco had even encouraged them, might have returned the attraction. 

The thought wad decidedly unpleasant, though Harry couldn’t quite figure out why. Draco was one of his best friends, he should be happy for him if he was getting action.

It was precisely because Draco was one of his best friends, Harry decided, that the thought was so viscerally upsetting. The idea of people fawning over Draco because he was good looking was almost offensive especially because there were far more valid reasons to fawn over him than his beauty... his striking, otherworldly, almost angelic beauty...but that wasn’t the point!

Draco was so clever and witty, he had such a great sense of humour, he was competitive about the exact kinds of things Harry loved to be competitive about, he was loyal and far braver than he would ever give himself credit for.

Those were far more legitimate reasons for someone to fawn over Draco. He wondered how many people got to know all of those things about Draco, all the things that made him so wonderful.

Harry was staring, his mind whirling with everything about Draco that he found attractive... no! Admirable. Nice. Things that he thought other people might fancy. 

Not himself. He didn’t fancy Draco, he wasn’t... like that. But he could appreciate why anyone else would fancy him, they would have to be crazy not to... 

Draco watched, a self satisfied smirk threatening to pull on the edges of his lips as he watched Harry’s eyes drinking him in. He pretended he didn’t notice anything though, because honestly, he hadn’t wanted Harry to stop. The thought that Harry was staring at him with any sort of admiration rather than because he was just tired or lost in thought was one of the most thrilling he had had in weeks.

They had promised that their friendship was strong enough to withstand all the crap that was being thrown at them at the moment. They wouldn’t abandon each other no matter how much the people around them wanted them to. 

Both of them believed it yet they had both needed to hear the other say it more than they would have admitted. 

Draco was grateful for the reassurance as it re bolstered his determination to face going back down the stairs the next morning. 

Despite the years of being an asshole to everyone Draco didn’t deal very well with confrontation, especially not in his own home- or the next best thing- the fact that every time he left his room he was met with severe glares was putting him terribly on edge. He hated not being able to control a situation and being in close quarters with people who hated him, who he couldn’t really defend himself from, was leaving him in a state of near constant anxiety.

But he was reinvigorated and ready to face the day, glares and all, because Harry cared about him, regardless of what Granger and Weasley thought. (His stomach flutter pleasantly whenever he remembered Harry’s adorably flushed face confessing that Draco was one of the most important people in his life- him! Draco Malfoy! Who would have thought?)

Before he could pride himself too much on his bravery at going down the stairs- Granger burst her way into his room, her hands planted firmly on her hips in an excellent impression of a school teacher telling off an unruly student. 

“Malfoy.” She said, her gaze hard on him as she planted herself in the middle of his room- this definitely wouldn’t be brief.

“Hello Granger, I hope you slept well.” Draco said, he couldn’t help it- he loved how much his polite tone seemed to infuriate her. She would probably get angrier if he complimented her than if he were to call her a mudblood again. At least that would be familiar. 

“I checked Harry for signs of interfering magic.” She told him, her glare fierce as she baited him into asking her for more details. 

“I assume everything came up clear then? What did you use?” He asked, keeping his tone conversational and light, despite his increasing frustration with the bushy haired girl stropping around his room.

“Yes. Everything is clear.” She huffed, “Harry isn’t under any sort of spell or under the influence of any sort of potion... but I’m not quite done yet”

Draco gaped at her, “you just used ‘Surgito’ to check for the interference didn’t you? It would catch anything, spells, potions, whatever else I might have done as part of my evil plot, but there wasn’t anything. So what now?”

“Now you drink this” Hermione said, handing him a vial of clear liquid. 

Vertisasserum. Of course. 

“You know its illegal to force someone to drink this stuff don’t you?” 

“I’m not forcing you. But if you don’t want us to kick you out of here to fend for yourself you’ll drink it and let me ask you a couple of questions.” Granger said, raising an eyebrow at him in an obvious challenge. 

Draco turned away, mulling his options, Granger could ask him anything at all and there would be nothing he could do to stop himself answering. She could ask literally anything. At all. Obviously taking the potion was a really stupid idea, but then if he didn’t take it Granger would assume she was right about him and he was hiding something. 

“I’ll do it on one condition.” Draco sighed, knowing that he was pretty much damned if he did and damned if he didn’t. 

At least this option had a chance of getting Granger off his back. 

“Are you really in a position to be bargaining right now Malfoy?” 

“Probably not, but I want Harry in the room if you’re going to be forcing me to drink a semi illegal potion.”

“It isn’t illegal if you agree to take it, and since you’ll agree to take it if you don’t want to be kicked out then it isn’t illegal.” She defended. 

“You really missed a few key points when they taught you about how consent works didn’t you?” Draco sniped. 

“We are in a war” Granger snapped, her teeth gnashing in irritation “it is far more important that my friends and I are safe and if we have to violate your privacy a little bit to ensure that safety then that’s a sacrifice I am willing to make.”

“Well that’s awfully noble of you” Draco said, rolling his eyes. 

Granger’s lips pursed and she turned on her heel, off to go fetch Harry before Draco could withdraw his ‘consent’.

It was only a few minutes later that Draco heard the tell tale “WHAT THE HELL HERMIONE!! NO!” Coming from down stairs. 

He hadn’t followed her downstairs, deciding she could explain her plan to Harry on her own. He wasn’t disappointed by the reaction from downstairs. She had probably done as well explaining it to Harry as she had to Draco. 

Harry’s loud footsteps stomped up to Draco’s room and flung his door open, his green eyes were aglow with his seething anger. 

“You agreed to take Vertisserum?” He demanded. 

Draco tried valiantly not to find the image of a bolstered and angry Harry Potter ready to spring heroically to his rescue devastatingly attractive. But he was only human, so there wasn’t much he could do. Harry’s eyes were so full of life, he stood pulled up to is full height and his shoulders were squared back, showing off how impressively broad they were. Honestly, Draco hadn’t stood a chance. Harry was hot as hell. 

Veritesserum was definitely a bad idea. 

“Yes I did. Granger made it very clear that if I didn’t take it I would find myself without a place to stay. Obviously its a dangerous time for me to be without a safe hideaway but Granger here has valiantly offered to violate my privacy in exchange for not handing me over to the wolves.”

“Hermione” Harry’s voice said, his voice dangerously low and slow, “you said that he offered to take it.”

Weasley had joined the conversation and was ready to back Granger up (predictably). 

“Look Harry,” Weasley cut in, “Obviously you’ve gone mad or something and decided that Malfoy is trustworthy, but whatever made you think that - Hermione and I don’t feel that way, we have no idea what made you decide that he’s alright. So we are having to live with someone we don’t feel safe with. If you care about us at all you can’t expect us to put ourselves in harms way. If we can’t have some proof that Malfoy isn’t the evil little shit he’s always been then we might as well just go back and go to Hogwarts because you obviously aren’t taking our safety seriously.”

Draco seethed. 

“Get fucked Weasel, I already said I’d do it, no need to lay the guilt trip on so thickly.” Draco snatched the vial from Granger’s hand and swallowed the dosage down in one gulp. 

Harry was stunned. Ron threatened to leave. He would have left. And Draco, he was willing to drink Veritesserum for people who hated him to prevent Harry from having to chose between himself and Hermione and Ron. The contrast was striking. 

“You aren’t asking anything too personal!” Harry demanded, positioning himself protectively between Ron and Hermione and Draco. If they dared ask anything too embarrassing or personal then he would cover Draco’s mouth, start making a lot of loud noise or do something to obscure what he said. It was literally the bare minimum he could do.

“Alright, lets start easy, are you a Death Eater?” Hermione asked, her face still hard and angry, though Harry thought he saw that she at least felt a little guilty for what was going on. Maybe. 

Before he answered Draco sighed heavily and drew the sleeve on his left side up. 

Slowly he revealed the horrible sight of the skull and snake symbol that marred the fragile pale skin of his forearm. Harry wanted to look away, he didn’t want to face the reality of that awful thing burned into Draco’s skin, but if Draco couldn’t escape it then it was only fair that Harry acknowledge it, and show Draco that even with the mark, Harry would still be there.

“Yes... I suppose its true that I’m a Death Eater” Draco admitted, his tone heavy and full of sadness, “but its not as simple as a yes or no question. I wasn’t asked if I wanted to be a Death Eater in the way I’m sure you think I was. I was asked if I wanted to become a Death Eater or watch as the Dark Lord murdered both my parents. I was more willing to face the first option.” 

Harry suppressed the urge to smile, Draco had to tell the truth, but the potion would have only demanded that he say ‘yes’, the elaboration was all Draco, if he was going to be forced to tell the truth he would o it his own way.

“So why are you here now?”

“I had to get out. I never agreed with all the Pureblood crap but for most of my life it was easier to just play along and not stir the pot. After last year it all started to get too real. I started being told that I had to actually hurt people, and I guess it opened my eyes to how bad it all really was. I realised I needed an escape plan, I needed to disappear in a way that wouldn’t bring my parents harm, so Harry offered me Grimmauld Place to hide away in and I faked my own death so my parents wouldn’t be harmed for what I did.”

“If you faked your own death how have none of us heard of it? Surely a student’s death would be on the front page of the Prophet?” Hermione asked, her brow creased in confusion.

“Not necessarily, my parents would be hiding it for as long as possible. Especially since there wasn’t a body I’ll be missing and assumed dead, the Malfoy’s aren’t exactly popular and if they publicised that I was missing there would be a higher chance of someone deciding they would finish the job themselves. I guess they’re holding out hope that I’ll turn up.” Draco told them, not liking to talk about his family, especially not with these people, they would never understand the complexities of his family dynamics. 

“Could you really blame someone for wanting to finish you off?” Ron sneered, he didn’t really mean it as a genuine question but the Veritesserum demanded Draco answer anyway.

“No. I couldn’t blame them.”

No one expected that answer. Harry’s heart clenched in sympathy, but he had to let Draco keep answering questions, they wouldn’t be satisfied with what had been revealed so far.

“How did you and Harry become friends?” 

“I’ve always admired Harry, even when I was a complete arsehole to him. When we first met I desperately wanted to be his friend, but unfortunately went about it the entirely wrong way. I was so used to bragging about my family and who we were to get other kids to like me that it just hadn’t occurred to me that some people wouldn’t have cared about it. 

From there I tried to hate him, in some ways I did, I was always really jealous of him, and I hated how warm and happy he would seem sometimes, I was jealous that he was so much braver than me. I was jealous that he was able to make friends so easily and that he was so charming and it seemed to come off so effortlessly. Being a jealous idiot made being an arsehole a lot easier. 

By sixth year though, things had gotten bad enough in my life that I couldn’t bring myself to care as much about being angry at Harry. I had my own stuff to deal with.

Harry found me one day in the bathrooms while I was having a bit of a breakdown over the stress of all the crap that was going on. I was a wreck, crying, stressed and completely out of my mind. I saw him there and panicked, I honestly don’t know what I thought he would do but the fact that he had seen me at rock bottom was more than I could handle. I threw a hex at him and we started duelling. Things escalated and I... oh Merlin, I tried to crucio him... the spell hit but... it didn’t do anything. Harry knew that you have to mean it for those kinds of spells to work and I guess he decided to give me a chance. We got to talking and we realised that we had a lot in common. Soon it just became really great to have someone who understood what it felt like to have all this awful responsibility that you didn’t want, and to live with the knowledge that if you didn’t do what you had to do people would die. It was a terrible situation, but Harry and I were able to help each other bear some of that burden.”

Harry stared at Draco with the softest expression on his face. He wanted nothing more than to go over and wrap the blond in the tightest hug he could manage. He wanted to do all sorts of things to him come to think of it - no - just the hug. The hug would be great. Getting to smell Draco’s hair and feel his body pressed against his- yeah that would be excellent...

Because what he had said had been so nice. 

No other reason. 

Hermione cleared her throat, unprepared for the monologue of an answer Draco had given, “Did you manipulate Harry, or trick him in any way into being your friend?”

“That’s a difficult question... obviously you know I didn’t magically manipulate him, and I certainly didn’t consciously do anything to sway his opinion of me, he was already aware enough of the worst sides of me, I could hardly have pretended they weren’t there. But I do wonder sometimes if Harry sees me in too sympathetic a manner. I know I did a lot of things that can’t be forgiven, but he has insisted on forgiving me anyway. I can’t be sure he doesn’t feel that way because I might have been subconsciously on my best behaviour with him lately... I want him to like me, he’s my friend, so obviously I curb some of my more unflattering qualities. But there is no master plan at work or anything like that.

Finally Ron asked, “How do you feel about Harry?”

Draco nearly choked when he heard the question, truthfully he responded, “I think he’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met.” 

It had taken every ounce of his self control not to blurt out the more honest answer of ‘I love him’.


	28. Chapter 28

Love.

Draco loved Harry. 

Oh Merlin he was so utterly fucked!

(Or not as the case may unfortunately be.) 

How could he be so completely stupid as to fall for the ultimate beacon of heterosexual heroism- Harry Potter! 

Draco didn’t want to face him. He couldn’t face him! Harry was understanding and sweet but this would definitely be too much for him. He couldn’t let him know, he would be horrified if he found out that Draco felt that way… 

Instead of lifting his gaze to see the bright emerald eyes staring at him in wonder, Draco got up and promptly left the room, making a bee line for his makeshift potions studio where he could go and not have to think about anything for a while. 

Not thinking, yes, that was exactly what he needed. 

“Aww, you hear that Harry, Malfoy thinks you’re wonderful” Ron teased, his snicker hitting Harry like a slap.

Somehow he managed to make the most amazing thing in the world sound embarrassing, awkward and gave it a connotation that flushed Harry’s cheeks.

That little sentence that had only seconds ago made Harry feel like he was taking a swooping dive on his beloved Firebolt - Ron was trying to wreck it!

He got up and stormed out of the room, not willing to face the teasing Ron would dish out, regardless of how innocent he would claim it was. He didn’t want to sit down with Hermione and ‘discuss’ what happened. Her attempts to analyse the situation could do just as much damage as Ron’s laughter. 

So he went to find Draco. 

Draco who thought he was amazing. The most amazing person he had ever met. Draco had actually said that. While under the influence of Veritesserum. 

Replaying it in his head brought back the dizzying, swooping sensation he had when he first heard it. He mentally replayed it over and over, hoping to cement it in his mind in case he might forget a single detail. 

There was something so humbling about hearing those words, about knowing hat they were meant to honestly and by someone whose opinion he valued so highly. 

He definitely needed to talk to Draco. 

Fortunately Draco was very much a creature of habit. He didn’t like to stray from his routines, and when he was upset he was even less likely to do something out of the ordinary. So there were only a fairly limited list of things he could be doing. He was either in the library, in his potions lab or making himself an enormous cup of tea with far too much sugar in it. 

Harry went for the kitchen.

Draco wasn’t there, but Harry set to work putting together a pot of tea. He knew Draco would be upset, and he had every right to be, and Harry wanted to cheer him up- that was all he was focused on. Tea could help to sightly lessen the blow of being forced to take an illegal potion and to reveal things you might not want to reveal in front of people who hated you. That was a thing people said about tea. 

Soon after he found Draco in his potions lab, diligently focusing on the instructions in front of him as he chopped and measured each ingredient as carefully as humanly possible. It really was any wonder Draco was so much better at potions than Harry. 

Harry liked that he didn’t see him walk through the door right away. He was always endeared by how Draco could get so lost in something he was focused on. But this time he was grateful because it gave him a few moments to take him in, to get to smile at the way little whisps of his blond hair fell down into his eyes without having to avert his gaze too soon. He got to admire the way Draco’s solid jaw flexed and relaxed as he grit his teeth- both in frustration and concentration - these were the parts of Draco that Harry tried to pretend he didn’t notice. That he couldn’t be seen admiring for too long lest someone get the wrong idea. 

He never gazed at Ron that way, he didn’t really give a toss one way or the other what Ron’s hair did, or how long ago Ron had shaved. Ron’s appearance wasn’t nearly as fascinating to Harry as Draco’s was. 

Nor was Neville’s, or Seamus’, or most of Ron’s brothers (he silently confessed that Bill definitely had something distracting about him too, not quite as much ad Draco but enough that Harry had noticed). 

Nevertheless, he had to admit to himself that being disappointed that his friend hadn’t looked up yet and that he therefore couldn’t see his sunning eyes, was not something people felt about their friends. 

Never once had he wished that Hermione would look up from her work just so he could see her eyes... her most likely brown.... maybe a darker blue... her, some sort of colour eyes... He had no idea what colour they were. He had never really paid attention to her eyes at all truth be told.

And yet, with Draco all he could do was pay attention. 

He could say with full confidence that Draco’s eyes were steel grey, but they could soften to an almost blue grey that despite their resemblance to storm clouds could be the most calming sights in the world. 

It wasn’t quite normal to think so though.

Not wanting to address the issue any closer Harry cleared his throat, subtly alerting Draco to his presence. 

Finally those beautiful eyes looked up and met his. 

Draco’s cheeks immediately flushed a delicate pink and he dropped his gaze almost as quickly as he had risen it. He braced himself, the idea of getting Harry coming in to tell him that everything was okay was the last thing Draco wanted right now.

He was in love with Harry Potter. 

Nothing would ever be okay again.

“I brought you a cup of tea” Harry offered, anxiously extending the mug to place before the blond. 

Draco wrapped his fingers around it and warmed his hands, still not looking at Harry. 

His stomach was in knots and his face continued to burn with his mortified blush.

“Draco, I hope you know that I think you’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met as well.” Harry mumbled, awkwardly trying to comfort his friend.

Wonderful.

That had been the word he’d used. 

Alright, Draco thought, Harry didn’t love him, but he had never thought he would, Harry thinking that he was wonderful was a pretty good second place. Sighing heavily to himself he looked up and offered Harry a classic Draco Malfoy line, “Well of course you think I’m wonderful Potter, you aren’t completely clueless after all.”

“Careful Malfoy, I might take that as a compliment coming from you” Harry joked back, his face instantly lighting up with a bright smile. 

Damn that smile, any wonder Draco had fallen in love with it, how could anyone not?

The two fell back into heir easy banter from there, both boys playing the roles they were comfortable with and enjoying some playful sass thrown at one another. It was nice, Harry thought, being able to laugh so freely with each other, it was familiar and safe but exciting and fun- much like Draco himself. 

He was a mess of contradictions, posher than any royalty but more grounded than anyone would have given him credit for, he was beautiful but masculine, handsome yet somehow fragile, he was thrilling, secure, fascinating and effortless- all at the same time. 

He had no idea how Ron and Hermione didn’t see that. 

Not even a little bit. 

Of course, there had been a time when he himself hadn’t seen it, but he was known to be a bit slow on the uptake with things like that... surely someone else would have noticed before he did that Draco Malfoy was by far and away the most captivating person at Hogwarts, or in Britain.... or the world. (And none of those felt at all like an exaggeration). 

Draco and Harry spent a while wrapped up in their own thoughts, neither aware of the inner turmoil of the other, neither willing to voice anything that might hint towards any deeper feelings.

It was almost a relief when Harry heard Hermione’s voice frantically calling through the house “Harry! Where are you? There’s someone here!”

She didn’t try to call for Draco but Harry gestured for him to follow nonetheless. 

When they had arrived back upstairs Harry’s face split into a beaming smile as he took in the sight of the tweed clad, sandy haired former Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor in the hallway.

“Remus!” Harry exclaimed, happily stepping forward to greet the older man, “what are you doing here?”

Remus pulled Harry into an affectionate, but brief, hug- Draco noted that Remus was one of the only people that he had seen that respected Harry’s frequent discomfort with being touched, especially unexpectedly. Though he didn’t seem to mind it when he was initiating it, if the number of hugs he had pulled Draco into by this point were anything to go by. 

“Well when you lot took off after the wedding we were all out of our mind with worry, we had no idea what happened to you. Members of the Order have been swapping in and out to look for you - I decided to try here today and here you are. Ron, Hermione, Harry its so good to see you, really it is... and... oh... Mr Malfoy... I’ll confess I did not expect to find you here. Clearly reports of your tragic passing have been somewhat exaggerated” Remus explained, his eyes taking in the four teenagers gathered before him. 

Granted, he hadn’t been teaching at Hogwarts for a long time now, but judging by what he had seen when he was there, and by what he had heard since retiring, Draco Malfoy was perhaps the last person he expected to find camped out with the trio.

The fact that none of them seemed at all harmed either, despite living in the same house- was very surprising.

“Harry offered me refuge here... I needed to get out of the Death Eaters but my family were under threat. He helped me find a way out that wouldn’t bring my parents to any harm...” Draco said, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet as he spoke. 

The werewolf intimidated him, he couldn’t hide that, not because of his condition, but because of how close he was to Harry- one of the only parental type figures he had left. If he joined Weasley and Granger in the ‘anti Draco’ brigade, Harry may well fold and kick him to the curb.

“Of course he did. Well, I suppose any friend of Harry’s is a friend of ours” He says, smiling warmly and offering his hand, which Draco promptly grabbed and shook firmly, a huge wave of relief rushing over him at the man’s encouraging smile. 

“Professor!” Hermione gasped, “how can you be so okay with this?”

“Okay with what?” 

“With Malfoy being here, in Sirius’ house! With him being Harry’s friend! All of it!”

“Well... I assume given that he is half a Black himself he would probably fit into Sirius’ old house better than most of us... and I remember pretty well people not trusting Sirius based on his family name as well, so the fact that he is ‘Malfoy’ isn’t something I’ll hold over him. In regards to him being Harry’s friend, well, Harry, I trust you wouldn’t be friends with someone who was the way Mr. Malfoy was when I knew him?”

“No,” Harry agreed, “If I genuinely still thought he was the way he had been acting before, I wouldn’t have become his friend... I wouldn’t have offered him the house to stay in... any of it.”

“So given that I trust Harry’s judgement I suppose I don’t really have a problem...” Remus said, his voice trailing off as he noticed the glares that two of his former students were directing at him. 

“Fine.” Ron snapped, “I suppose everyone is fine with having a Death Eater in the house and there’s nothing we can do about it but watch our backs.” 

With that he turned and stormed up the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing loudly through the old house. 

“I really thought you’d be on my side with this Professor” Hermione said in her best teacher’s pet voice, hoping to sway the Professor’s opinion before he too was drawn into Harry’s delusion.

Remus sighed, “alright Hermione, why don’t you and I go and have a chat?” 

Smiling victoriously Hermione followed Remus out of the hall and into the sitting room. She perched herself eagerly on the very edge of one of the big stiff armchairs and eagerly waited for Professor Lupin to be ready to hear her side of the issue. 

Unfortunately he didn’t allow her to have her say first. 

“I know this is something you will be struggling quite a lot with. So please don’t think I am trying to minimise the impact of any of the horrible things the Malfoy boy has done to you over the years. 

When you’re seventeen, you think you’re finally an adult and who you are as a person has finally finished cooking. I suppose part of that comes from how we label people as being ‘mature’ as if its a destination they’ve reached. But as you get older seventeen year olds start to look extremely young.

You all judge yourselves very harshly for not having everything figured out because you think you need to have all your views on everything ironed out now that you’re an ‘adult’. You will see Draco as irredeemable because you think who he was at school is the be all and end all of who he is.

But when you’ve grown up yourself you see how much people change, and if a seventeen year old child wants to make a change for the better, it does a lot more damage to them to not allow them that chance. Draco is still figuring out who he is and who he is going to be, the more people who are willing to be good influences on him and who show him that the way he was brought up with doesn’t have to be the only way- the better it will be for him.

There are so many kids who are raised in the world of the Malfoy’s and the Blacks who never find a way out, and for a lot of them its because the prospect of leaving the safety of the bubble they grew up in is terrifyingly lonely. They have no friends or family on the other side and many people who are doing the ‘right thing’ are openly hostile to them. So its easier to stay, despite them knowing it isn’t right. We shouldn’t let that happen to Draco.” Remus explained, thinking back to the guilt that had weighed so heavily on the Marauders following the death of Sirius’ brother. 

It wasn’t until it was too late that Sirius had even entertained the idea the Reggie might not have been the Perfect Pureblood Prince his parents forced him to be. 

Maybe Draco was the same. 

“But it shouldn’t matter if its hard. You do the right thing no matter what. People have the right to be suspicious of someone who has always been as awful as Malfoy.” Hermione said.

“Hermione, have you ever considered that everyone grows up thinking that their way is the right way. And Draco likely grew up with as much conviction that his parent’s way was right as you did about yours. Think of how much it would take to admit that not only were your parents and friends wrong about everything. Everything they ever taught you. But that you had to go and seek help from people you had once considered your enemies.”

“But I wouldn’t be in that situation, my parents are good people!”

“I’m not saying they aren’t, I’m saying you need to see that you are very lucky in a way that Draco Malfoy sadly isn’t. Surely if you can’t trust him for Harry’s sake you can at least muster up some sympathy for him.”

“Sympathy?” Hermione shrieked, “for Malfoy? No! Absolutely not, he was completely awful to me for years, fine, maybe he’s briefly seen the light, but deep down he’s always going to be rotten. Harry will figure that out eventually.”

“Is that what you want? For Harry to be proven wrong? You know what that will mean for him, he would be completely heartbroken for any of his friends to betray his trust, is that really something you want to see for him?”

“Well… no of course I don’t want Harry to be hurt, but he’s clearly had the wool pulled over his eyes and he’s being completely naive. Surely you see that?”

“I’ll tell you what Hermione, you’re clever enough that you will never react well to someone telling you something you don’t agree with. I know that. So how about you find out for yourself. Harry tells you that Draco has changed, instead of guessing that he’s wrong, why don’t you watch for yourself and see if you agree with him. Don’t just rely on the information you had before, actually find out for yourself.” Remus offered, hoping that an appeal to her intelligence would settle the angry teenager.

“I’ll do my best.” She conceded. 

“So, on to a lighter topic, what are the four of you doing out here?” Remus asked.

“Well the three of us, we are continuing the mission Dumbledore left us. Come on, I’ll get the boys and we will explain everything.” She announced with an air of self importance. 

Remus wondered vaguely if Harry realised how much of an ego boost the mission they were on would be giving Hermione. The girl was extremely ambitious and would likely already be planning how she could spin her involvement in this task, and in all of Harry’s adventures, in her favour in the future. Though she claimed to have no political aspirations, there was no doubt in Remus’ mind that Hermione would be all too happy to drop a few more mentions of her adventures than necessary to any hiring board she faced later in life. 

Harry, Ron and Draco were all awkwardly gathered in the lounge room, obviously aware that Remus and Hermione’s conversation would have eventually ended with a group discussion. 

“Okay, so…” Hermione said, clapping her hands together once to begin her lecture “We have been asked by Dumbledore to go out and search for…”

Harry leapt to his feet, cutting off her sentence, “What are you doing? We can’t tell anyone about it! I promised we would keep it a secret!” 

“Well Harry to be honest I thought the secrecy thing had all kind of gone out the window when you told Malfoy.”

“I asked Dumbledore’s permission to tell him first!” Harry argued, “its not like I just blurted it out to whoever asked.”

Hermione frowned, “you’re honestly saying that Malfoy is more trustworthy than Professor Lupin?”

“No.” Harry said, taking a deep, steadying breath, “I’m saying that, with all due respect, Remus is very involved with the Order and he would face a lot of pressure to tell everyone at Headquarters what we are doing. I don’t want to put him in the position where he has to look at Mr and Mrs Weasley and try to defend why he can’t tell them what Ron is doing, or if he’s in any danger. I don’t want him to have to worry about him deciding that we need help from the Order, most of whom I trust, but a few I don’t know well enough to want that information passed to. He might want to tell his wife, which would be fine, Tonks is great- but would Tonks want to tell her mum? Would Andromeda tell her sister Bellatrix about what we’re doing? Maybe not. But would she do it under torture? I don’t know. The more people that know, the greater our chance of it getting out. I trust Remus not to tell anyone, but not many beyond that- I just need time to decide if its a risk worth taking and I don’t appreciate having ‘we’re telling him the most important secret in this war right now’ thrown on me like that. I know you think I told Draco on a whim, but I didn’t. I take the responsibility of what we have to extremely seriously, you know the consequences of if I don’t get this right so I would really love it if you would stop acting like I’m treating this like homework I’m putting off too late. I know whats at stake and I am making all of my decisions accordingly.”

Remus stared in awe at the young man before him. Harry had always, quite famously, had a quick temper. He would be quick to grow frustrated and to start shouting. But now, he seemed reasonable, articulate and almost calm. His frustration with his friend was obvious, but it didn’t come across in the way he argued his point. 

He was proud of him. 

And despite his own desire to help, to be involved in whatever the trio were doing… it suddenly occurred to him with striking clarity that he didn’t need to know. 

He trusted the young man in front of him. Completely.

“Don’t worry Harry. I am here to offer you whatever help you can use, but I don’t need to be told all the details if you aren’t comfortable telling me.” 

“But Professor! He told Malfoy!” Ron protested, immediately judging the situation to be completely unfair.

“Yes, he did, but if Mr. Malfoy’s influence had anything to do with the changes I’ve seen in Harry then I think it was a risk that has so far paid off.”

No one had anything to say to that.


	29. Chapter 29

"The Ministry of Magic is undertaking a survey of so-called 'Muggle-borns,' the better to understand how they came to possess magical secrets. Recent research undertaken by the Department of Mysteries reveals that magic can only be passed from person to person when Wizards reproduce. Where no proven Wizarding ancestry exists, therefore, the so-called Muggle-born is likely to have obtained magical power by theft or force. The Ministry is determined to root out such usurpers of magical power, and to this end has issued an invitation to every so-called Muggle-born to present themselves for interview by the newly appointed Muggle-born Registration Commission.” Remus read from the paper.

They stared at each other following the announcement in varying degrees of shock. Harry’s stomach churned at the thought of the young muggle born students preparing for Hogwarts who might soon be faced with the Muggle Born Registry in a Ministry that didn’t want them there. When Harry had started Hogwarts it was a sanctuary, a welcomed escape from a world where he had never felt he belonged. He wasn’t muggle born of course, but he may as well have been given the way he was brought up. He knew Hermione felt similarly to him. Her parents only allowed her to go to Hogwarts because they were acutely aware of how poorly their young daughter fit into the world around her. Hogwarts was a chance to finally belong somewhere and it broke Harry’s heart to think of the incoming cohort of young students being robbed of the chance to experience that. They would be going from a world in which they didn’t fit in to one that was becoming more and more openly hostile to their very existence. 

The announcement was painful for Harry to read, but it also fuelled his resolve. The sooner they brought down Voldemort and destroyed the Horcruxes, the sooner they could turn attention towards the innocent kids who were being targeted for their blood. 

Draco was much less surprised by the whole thing. Having grown up around Pureblood society he was well aware of how deeply blood supremacy actually ran in the wizarding world. Though he would never argue that Purebloods were better than half bloods or muggle borns, he knew he was in the minority for holding that opinion. Even his parents, who could actually be fairly liberal for Purebloods questioned the inclusion of muggle borns in Hogwarts. He knew the ministry had been searching for an excuse to roll in legislation like this for years, but until very recently to even debate such a law would have been political suicide. He did feel saddened though, the registry was another sign of the growing power of blood supremest ideas, and the grown acceptability of them. The longer such ideologies remained in the public eye, being discussed so rationally, as if both sides were equally valid, the easier the transition would be to Voldemort’s way of thinking for more ordinary people.

It was Hermione though who reacted, perhaps predictably, in the most aggressive way. 

Being a muggle born herself issues of blood always hit her very close to home. She had always been on the back foot, and made to feel insecure for not being witch enough to belong in the wizarding world. At times it felt to her that she never belonged anywhere at all. She wasn’t seen by many people as being magical enough to be a real witch, but she certainly wasn’t ‘ordinary’ enough to be a muggle. She was always acutely aware of the fact that she didn’t really belong anywhere. As a child in her first years at Hogwarts it had been a feeling, a sense of not quite being the right sort, but it was one that could be dismissed and pushed aside, she could get high marks and perform well in classes to prove her worthiness to be included in this world. But now it was being introduced into legislation that she did not belong. That she never would. And somehow she was supposed to fight this injustice alongside the boy who had made her feel more than anyone else that she was inferior because of her blood. 

It was Draco Malfoy who had introduced to her the very concept of being a ‘Mudblood’ it was Draco Malfoy who time and time again had gone out of his way to remind her that she would never be good enough, no matter what she did. And she was expected to be okay with having him around, for Harry’s sake.

She exploded.

“See Harry, this is exactly why we didn’t want Malfoy along with us for this!”

Harry sputtered, “But Draco didn’t do anything! Its not like he introduced the law or anything.”

“No he might not have,” She agreed before rounding on the blond “but you believe in all this rubbish don’t you? You might not be evil enough to be a genuine Death Eater but that doesn’t stop you from agreeing with people who think that people like me are a burden to society and need to be gotten rid of.” 

Draco paused before responding to her accusation. It would not go well for him to say the wrong thing here. “I do not believe that muggle borns should be excluded from wizarding society. I never have. I do however, see where some frustration comes from.”

Hermione rounded on him immediately, ready to argue “so you sympathise? Don’t you see how that makes you just as bad? How am I ever supposed to work with you, to trust you, if you believe things like that?” 

“Alright listen,” Draco said, rising from his seat and gathering his thoughts “I do not agree with the Registry. I promise you. But allow me, for a brief moment, to demonstrate what the other argument is. You don’t have to agree with it, but I think it may do you some good to hear it.” 

Hermione nodded once, her arms folded across her chest. 

Clearing his throat briefly, Draco began: “Most muggle borns do not remain in wizarding society after their education at Hogwarts. Statistically most will return to the muggle world when they look for work. It makes sense, that is where their families are and that way they don’t have to continue to hide a large part of their existence from those closest to them. But they attend our schools for free, meaning families like the Weasleys who are less financially able, end up worse off as they pay more fees in order that muggle borns pay nothing.” 

“Its a price my family are willing to pay!” Ron interjected, sore at the reminder of his family’s poverty. Ron’s family had been labelled blood traitors for generations. They had always supported the inclusion of muggle borns in wizarding society despite their pure blood. His family would all be horrified at the idea of denying people like Hermione entrance to Hogwarts, no matter the cost. 

“Maybe it is! But is it a price that the Longbottoms, the Abbots, Prewetts and Macmillans would pay? And would you really feel that way if you weren’t best friends with Granger? Would you honestly be so okay with having no money if it meant she could come to Hogwarts for free?” Draco asked. “And should it really be up to only one family, like the Weasleys to decide?”

Not waiting for an answer Draco plowed on, “Wizarding society changes when muggle borns come into it, and yes, I will freely admit that some of those changes are beneficial, but others aren’t. Vampires and werewolves for example, never used to be persecuted until the rates of muggleborns increased. Those raised by muggles only see magical creatures as frightening and dangerous because all the stories they grew up with painted them as monsters. As they introduced legislation to combat these ‘dark creatures’ wizarding society at large became fearful as well. Generation after generation of fear mongering has resulted in people like Professor Lupin here being unemployable in the wizarding world. Before then they were seen as any other magical creature, human or otherwise. These distinction are muggle born made. The same can be said for same sex couples, who used to be considered normal, but who muggleborns drove underground because of the religious beliefs they brought with them. Think about it, wizards have no need for religions that muggles subscribe to, but yet we have Christmas holidays instead of Yule breaks, we get a week off for Easter instead of Beltane all because everyone wanted to make Hogwarts more palitable and welcoming to Muggle borns, yet they never do the same. Notice that we have muggle studies classes at Hogwarts so that wizarding students can learn about the world that muggle borns come from but no classes on wizarding society so that the muggle borns can understand our culture in return. Muggle borns have no desire to understand our culture, our religions and our heritage and we can’t even protest that without being labeled a supremest. 

I in no way think that muggle borns should be excluded from wizarding society, but I think that muggle borns need to understand that our world has a long history and cultural heritage from before they arrived. I think its a very controversial and difficult issue to talk about and the problem is people like Voldemort are able to capitalise on some of the frustration because they feel like its the only alternative. I disagree with it, I think it is fundamentally wrong- but many people don’t and labelling all of those people as Death Eaters does nothing to help the situation.”

Everyone shifted uncomfortably at the end of Draco’s speech, particularly Remus. 

Of course Remus was the most directly affected by the influx of muggle borns in the magical world, and he had often wondered how his life may have been different if he had been seen as just any other magical person. He sometimes couldn’t help but be the smallest bit resentful at the nature of his situation. He felt terribly guilty, but it crept in sometimes. In the old days of wizarding society magical creatures were all considered a part of the same community, wizards, veela, warewolves, vampires, fae and centaurs, it wasn’t until after the middle ages, when muggle borns started to be welcomed in en mass that wizards became the dominant group. Humanity was considered most important, not magic. All other magical creatures were labeled as ‘dark’ and ‘dangerous’ and regulations to control them became increasingly tighter as years went on. 

But at the same time, the very muggle born Lily Evans had been one of his best friends, he couldn’t deny the brilliance of students like Hermione and even the contribution of kind muggle born students without any particular talent or skill. He saw the point Draco was making, and admired him for being able to make it given the company in the room - he certainly wouldn’t win himself any points for doing so.

Ron and Hermione were gobsmacked. They were sure it was the most they had ever heard Draco speak since their arrival. He had been careful since the first night to avoid direct contact with either of them. Hermione suspected that he was trying to avoid starting any arguments that might lose him favour with Harry. She should have known it wouldn’t take long for the snake to show his scales. 

“Of course you think that! You would love to paint muggle borns as horrible and destructive but we have contributed a lot to the magical community and we are constantly told that we don’t belong, if you agree with that you’re every bit the Death Eater we all know you are.” Hermione fumed. 

“I am not trying to deny the contributions muggle borns have made to our community at all. But they don’t just contribute, they can also be destructive.” Draco responded.

“Not as destructive as You-Know-Who and all the members of your precious pure blood community who follow him.” She snapped, anger rising. 

“Its not about who is more or less destructive, thats not what I’m arguing! I’m just trying to explain…” 

“Don’t bother.” She fumed, turning on her heel and marching out of the room, nose held aloft ahead of her. 

Ron followed immediately after her, shooting Draco a nasty look as he passed. 

Remaining was Remus, Harry and a deeply uncomfortable Draco. 

Remus turned to the other two boys “listen lads, I’m sure you realise it will probably take a while for things to calm down around here. You have all had a very difficult relationship with each other for a long time, it will take a while for the dust to settle. 

Draco, for what its worth I think you have some good points, and as far as Harry’s assertion that you’re not who you’ve always appeared, I’m willing to trust his judgement until you give me reason not to. 

Harry, go easy on your friends, they haven’t had as long to get used to all of this as you have and I’m sure they are doing their best to get along with Draco for your sake. If they didn’t intend to give him a chance they would have thrown him out days ago.  
Before I go, I just want to say thank you. I know its hard trusting someone and I am glad you’ve decided to put your trust in me. I won’t let you down.” 

“Professor Lupin?” Draco asked, hesitantly stepping forward. 

“Please, call me Remus.” Remus said, smiling at the nervous blond.

“Remus... I wanted to say... Whatever happens from here, I plan on remaining with Harry. I know what he’s working on and I want to be of as much assistance as I can. If we’re going to be off who knows where for who knows how long- then we need someone on the outside to report back to, and who can keep us up to date if the need arises.” Draco explained, pulling his half of Sirius’ mirror from his pocket, “So I think maybe it might be best if I return this to you, so you can contact us if need be.”

Remus and Harry stared in shock at Draco. Harry because he hand’t known that Draco was planning on coming with him, the thought was surprisingly uplifting and exciting, but it was a sacrifice he was deeply touched that Draco would make for him. Draco wasn’t the type to jump headfirst into adventure. The fact that he would do so for Harry... it meant a lot. 

Remus was happy to be given more evidence towards Harry’s assertions that Draco was changed and was a good person - he knew he would come to feel relieved that he had a means to contact the group, but he was feeling more confident that he may not need to. Between Draco, Ron and Hermione, Harry would be well looked after. 

Harry stepped forward to encircle his former professor in a firm hug before the older man stepped into the floo to return home to his wife. 

 

***

 

While Harry and Draco were talking to Remus, Hermione and Ron were having their own discussion. 

“Ron I think we need to play this whole thing with Malfoy differently...”

“What are you on about? Surely you don’t agree with Harry?” Ron sputtered. 

“Of course not- you heard him out there, he can be so persuasive and conniving, I’m more sure now than ever that he tricked Harry somehow into being his friend. But Harry won’t listen and the more we talk about Malfoy being bad news the more he’s going to dig his heels in. He’s just going to start resenting us and thinking that we don’t trust him at all...”

“But don’t you think this is all bullshit? We’ve been his best friends fo seven years and Malfoy comes in out of nowhere and somehow the most important thing is for us to get on board with him? After everything he’s done?”

“I know Ron, I know. But we need to keep Harry on our side, and part of that is going to have to be playing along with all this. At this point I wouldn’t put it past him to chose Malfoy over us. We need to play along, you know? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. At least this way we can keep an eye on Malfoy.”

Ron nodded in understanding, “you’re right Hermione. I’ll follow your lead.”

Hermione beamed at him, wrapping her arms around his solid form and relishing in the fact that at least one of her friends still turned to her for guidance. 

 

***

 

Draco made his way down to the lower floors of Grimmauld place, wanting to get in a little bit more time working on the potions stock. The afternoon had been filled with plans on how they would find the locket. Luckily, Draco had been able to get the story relatively easily from Kreacher, and the group had rounded up Mundungus Fletcher to get the rest of the story. 

Harry had made very clear that Draco would now be a part of their mission, asking Ron and Hermione to accept that he would be an asset to their team. The pair had agreed, surprising both Harry and Draco. It seemed the fight was finally leaving the pair. 

They needed a plan for what they would do about the Ministry, finding the other Horcruxes and the rest of the mission, but in case they needed to get away quickly, Draco wanted to feel prepared. 

He worried that his potions stores were all that he was able to contribute to the mission, and was determined that he would do it to the best of his abilities. At least this time he was putting in a ridiculous amount of work for a mission he actually felt good about. If he could play any role in helping to bring down the Dark Lord it was good enough for him, even if all he did was keep Harry and his little gang alive (though more importantly, Harry). As he turned to make his way to the potions lab he heard Weasley and Granger having a hushed conversation below.

“I think we need to leave Malfoy here while we go to the Ministry” Hermione whispered, her voice barely carrying. Draco knew he shouldn’t eavesdrop, he should trust Harry’s friends, but hearing his name, knowing that Granger and Weasley clearly didn’t want to be overheard made him stop in his tracks. As silently as possible he sunk back into the shadows, breathing slowly and quietly to avoid detection. 

“Do you really think its safe leaving Malfoy here?” Ron asked, his voice lowered. 

“I don’t know Ron, I don’t think any of it is safe really. I wish we could ask Harry what he was thinking but he’s become so defensive about Malfoy, its like he doesn’t see that this whole friendship makes no sense. Either way, its not great to leave Malfoy here unguarded, but I would rather keep him too far away from any action to betray us when it suits him.” She responded.

“So you don’t think Harry knows something about him that we don’t?”

“I’m not going to say its impossible, but isn’t it much more likely that Malfoy has manipulated his way in? Think about it, he’s always looking out for himself, maybe he knows Voldemort isn’t going to win and figures if he ‘switches’ now it will be better for him in the long run. I don’t know, but I don’t feel safe not knowing.” 

“How do we tell Harry? He’ll flip his nut if we tell him we don’t trust him… not that he’s given us any reason to trust him. But its like he expects us to flip a switch and just trust Malfoy because he told us to.”

“I’ve already thought about that.” Hermione told him, voice rising in excitement, “Malfoy’s good at potions and has been working on dittany and all sorts of healing potions we might need, so lets tell Harry that it would be safer to have him here as a medic in case any of us get injured. Harry will like it because we’re ‘including’ Malfoy but it keeps him at a safe distance. Malfoy won’t suspect anything because I doubt he even wants to come along anyway!”

Ron pulled Hermione into a close hug “Hermione you are a genius, Harry would flay me for it but I feel so much better thinking we aren’t going to be heading into the Ministry with that slimy bloody snake hanging on our backs.”

Draco turned on his heel and returned immediately to his room, not caring that the door slammed shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for everyone who has been supportive of this story so far you guys are awesome!!!


	30. Chapter 30

Later that night Harry sat down to another one of Kreacher’s huge dinners with Ron and Hermione. 

Draco had told him that he wasn’t hungry and didn’t want to join them that night, which was strange, but Harry was trying to be sympathetic. He had been involved in adventures, missions and general encounters with danger all the time, throwing himself headfirst into chaos was becoming second nature to him. Draco had always been very sheltered, though he had faced Voldemort since his forced entry into the Death Eater ranks, he had never deliberately placed himself in danger. It was any wonder Draco was probably feeling too anxious to come to dinner, they had spent most of the afternoon planning how they would infiltrate the Ministry Of Magic- something Ron, Hermione and he had done before, to Draco though it would all be pretty overwhelming. Harry tried not to worry too much. 

“So, I wanted to talk about some of the plans for when we try get the locket from the Ministry” Harry started, figuring it might be good to brainstorm some of the finer details while Draco was out, just so he wasn’t constantly bombarded with the planning. 

Hermione nodded immediately which made Harry smile. Of course she already had more ideas. He smiled at her as she began discussing her preliminary ideas. “Ron and I were talking and we thought maybe if the three of us go to the Ministry together, we can split up, under polyjuice of course, and cover more ground that way.” 

“Just the three of us?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Hermione nodded, “We know that Malfoy has been working on first aid potions and while I hope we all make it back here safely I think it would be good to have someone waiting here in case something goes wrong, who has a clear head and can help patch up anyone who needs it. I would volunteer to do it but I just think we should play to our strengths and since Malfoy is the one to have made the potions it makes sense for him to administer them, especially if he was experimenting with them in any way… I might not know exactly what he designed them for and well… you know I can get flustered in an emergency and I don’t want to be a liability…” she mumbled, trailing off guiltily towards the end. 

Harry thought over what she had said, warmth spreading quickly through his chest. He really had the best friends in the world. 

He thought back over the endless nights he spent worrying about Ron and Hermione’s reactions to his friendship with Draco and smiled happily knowing that it had been for nothing. Sure, the start had been rocky- very rocky. But his own start with Draco had been rocky and maybe he had just sprung it all on them too quickly. But to see Hermione turning around and trusting him, and his friend, was heartwarming, especially after only a couple of days. Even he himself needed longer than that to come around to Draco. He knew it was a lot to ask that his friends get along with Draco, their relationship with him had been just as turbulent and volatile as his own relationship with the blond, and for them to trust him enough to see past it, and even to make plans that played to Draco’s strengths. He was touched. 

“Hermione, Ron, thank you so much” he told them “you have no idea how much I had been worrying about telling you about becoming friends with Draco and I know its been a huge shock to suddenly have him in your faces. I hadn’t expected to come back here and really thought Draco would be here on his own and I could break it all to you more slowly. But yeah…. it really means a lot to me that you’re trusting me with this. Especially after the whole Veritesserum thing and the muggle born discussion earlier, that can’t have been comfortable for any of us.”

Hermione shrugged with false nonchalance “he gave me some interesting things to think about.”

Ron shuffled awkwardly before muttering “no worries mate” under his breath. Harry thought nothing of it, it was all new, it was bound to be awkward. 

They spent the rest of the evening brainstorming. What else would they need? When would they start scoping out the Ministry? Did Draco have any polyjuice in his potions lab? Whose hair would they use? Together the three friends worked like they always did, systematically planning for danger.

After Ron and Hermione said their goodnights Harry returned to Draco’s room after bounding enthusiastically up the stairs. The door was locked, though Harry supposed that might be normal in Draco’s house. He knocked quickly.

“Go away Harry” Came the quiet response. 

“Draco? Are you okay?” Harry asked, unused to Draco Malfoy taking such a soft, vulnerable tone. 

“I’m fine. I just need to be alone for a while.” 

“Are you sure? Ron and Hermione told me about their plan for the Ministry, do you want to hear it?” 

He heard Draco laugh mirthlessly, “oh I bet they told you all about their plan” he snarked.

“What are you on about? Draco please, let me in.”

He wasn't expecting it to work but he heard the lock on Draco’s door click and he pushed the door open. Across the room Draco lay spread out on his bed, his wand hanging loosely from his hand that was barely lifted to point at the door.

Approaching slowly Harry asked “Whats going on Draco?”

Draco rolled over, meeting Harry’s eyes and seeming to deflate even further. His eyes were rimmed red, his clothes rumpled, he had obviously been laying there for a long time, and was clearly upset. Harry immediately took a seat next to him. 

“Draco please talk to me…” He begged, wanting terribly to fix what was bothering the blond. 

“I don’t want to be the person they think I am” Draco muttered. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Granger and Weasley, I heard them talking earlier, they told you they want me here while you’re at the ministry so that I can help if anyone gets injured, but the truth is they want me out of the way so I can’t betray anyone. Granger said she would feel safer if I wasn’t close enough to sabotage you. I understand that they have no reason to trust me, I know that, and I know that they don’t know me beyond the horrible little shithead I’ve been all the way through school. But hearing them talk like that, I just got flashes of the rest of my life. Is that how its always going to be? Will I always be the Death Eater guy to everyone? I feel as though the only way to change anyone’s view of me is to become a saint for the rest of my life, which I don’t think I can do. No one can, none of you lot are perfect, but I feel like thats what I need to be to prove I’m not terrible. I’m not an altogether pleasant person… I just don’t want to be an evil one either.”

Harry’s heart sank.

Of course Ron and Hermione weren’t suddenly okay with Draco. He should have known. He wanted so badly for everything to fall into place, he should have known it wasn’t going to happen like that. Poor Draco. Why couldn’t anything be simple? 

“Draco, I am so sorry that you have to worry about all this. I should have expected Ron and Hermione’s issues with us being friends wouldn’t be so easy to get past. I guess I just wanted to believe it would all be okay so I didn’t question it when they said it was. But listen, I’ve had loads of time to get used to Draco Malfoy, the good guy, they haven’t yet, I’m sure that they will come to see you just the way I do… or at least… you know… close enough… ahem. 

What I’m saying is, you won’t always have to be defending yourself to everyone, soon they’ll see it and they’ll know who you really are. And if they don’t you can send them my way and I’ll give them a piece of my mind. 

I think you’re a phenomenal person Draco and I am so happy we’ve become friends, I know this whole thing is so much more than you wanted to be involved in and if there’s anything I can do to make things easier on you then please let me know. I want to help you as much as you help me.” At the end of his speech Harry’s face was bright red, but he was happy to endure some embarrassment for the sake of the smile that graced the tear stained face of the other boy. 

Draco Malfoy was made to smile, Harry decided. If he could ever contribute a smile to that beautiful face he would do whatever he needed to to make it happen. It didn’t matter if it embarrassed him, it was worth it. So if it took very near an awkward confession then Harry would do his best to skirt the line between cheering up his friend and saying something that might ruin everything. 

“Can we just, ignore all of the unpleasantness of everything, just for a short while? Pretend everything is okay for the time being?” Draco asked, “I’m tired of being stressed all the time.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever had a better idea Malfoy” Harry smiled. 

Draco returned the smile, “Oh no, I think it was a better idea to befriend my awkwardly bespecticaled former nemesis. That will always be the best idea I’ve ever had.” 

The blush that had faded from Harry’s face came back with full force, and went an even deeper red when he saw Draco shift over in his bed and pat the space left behind. 

The bed was huge, it certainly wasn’t suggestive, Harry reminded himself, but there was something about Draco Malfoy offering him a space in his bed that made Harry embarrassed beyond words. 

Not embarrassed enough to refuse the offer though. 

Harry crawled into Draco’s bed, hoping to cheer his friend up. They had chatted before while both in bed of course, but the proximity of the blond was making Harry’s skin feel too tight. Suddenly he was so aware, of Draco’s scent, the warmth of his body, the exposed parts of Draco’s skin which where were too close for comfort and the way his pale blond hair was falling messily across his face, for someone who always wore their hair neat and perfectly controlled, the sight of Draco mussed up was doing something to Harry. It was all suddenly just very much. 

Harry had never been so overwhelmingly aware of another person before, and as it turned out, that awareness made say stupid things. 

“You should let your hair fall forward more often, it really suits you” he said. 

The moment the words left his mouth Harry wanted nothing more than to vanish into thin air. 

Fortunately Draco didn’t seem to notice Harry’s mortification. “Don’t be ridiculous Potter, it looks a mess when it isn’t sitting in place.” He said, running a hand self consciously through it. 

“No it doesn’t, it looks… just trust me okay. It’s nice.” Harry stumbled.

“I didn’t realise you had such closely held views on my hair Potter” Draco smirked, enjoying the thought immensely.

“Yeah, I noticed it that first night in the Room of Requirement actually, after you fell asleep your hair fell forward… I thought it was nice.” 

Draco snorts, “well I suppose I should be glad that you were concentrating on my hair and not laughing at me for having fallen asleep in front of you- I still can’t believe I did that.” 

“Why not? You’ve fallen asleep in front of me plenty of times since then.. well… technically anyway.” 

“Yes, I suppose I have, but its different when its through the mirror. Or rather, we were different by the time we started using the mirror. We were more comfortable. I’ve never been comfortable enough with another person to fall asleep in front of them, with you its almost the opposite.”

“Ha! I bore you that much?”

“No you prat. I mean, you relax me, in a way that no one else can. I suppose it has to do with the fact that you have seen me very much at my worst, even worse than my worst in a way… Yet you’re still interested in being my friend. I don’t think anyone has gone to that much effort for me before. I don’t think anyone else would” Draco sighed. It was true, Harry did have a profound effect on him, in a way that he didn’t think anyone else would be able to replicate.

“They might do if you let them…” Harry argued, upset by Draco’s loneliness.

“No, you’re special.” He disagreed.

Another flush rose across Harry’s cheeks- he was beginning to wonder if his face would just stay that way soon enough- “thank you.” 

 

***

All Harry could think about was Draco. His clean, fresh, masculine scent, the firm muscles that decorated his slim body, his eyes, hair, lips skin. Oh yes, his skin, soft and fragile but covering the body of a man who was neither. 

Harry moaned deeply in his sleep, his unconscious brain conjuring images of what it might be like to explore, to taste and feel every inch of the person who had so thoroughly captivated him. It would have to be amazing, even sitting next to him and accidentally grazing his hand could completely blank out Harry’s mind - there was no way being allowed, or even encouraged, to touch and caress Draco’s stunning body wouldn’t be the best thing in the whole world. 

If he did it well enough he might even inspire a similar reaction in Draco. A reaction he might grind his hips down onto.

Harry’s own hips shifted desperately as he lay quietly.

His dream continued, never quite providing the visual imagery he found himself craving, but hinting at sensations, sights and sounds that he had never even thought of indulging in before. It was new and exciting and a certain other feeling Harry wasn’t sure he could face naming yet.

When Harry eventually woke up he felt warm and relaxed, and he couldn’t remember a time he had woken up to feeling quite so content. He sighed happily and burrowed deeper into his snuggly surrounds. There had been no nightmares, he hadn’t woken through the night and he didn’t even remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembered from the night before was climbing into Draco’s bed to chat with him after he had been upset.

He quickly became aware of the steady heartbeat he could feel under his cheek. Opening his eyes he realised with alarm that he had fallen asleep in Draco’s bed. In his actual bed. With him in it! 

And through the night Harry had shifted to rest his head on Draco’s chest! He was using him as a pillow! Oh Merlin it was embarrassing.

Harry had an arm slung over Draco’s midsection and Draco had one of his arms wrapped protectively around Harry in return. At least that was something, Harry thought, his mortification subsiding slightly, at least he hadn’t been the only one.

It made sense, people naturally gravitated to warmth in their sleep, so it was only natural to end up so close together through the night. Lots of people cuddled into their pillows or blankets for comfort, maybe Draco and Harry just substituted the next available thing.

It was all perfectly reasonable.

Except for the small part where Harry could still remember his dream. 

In fact he could remember his dram with such clarity that he was getting flashes of particular imaginings as he looked at the rumpled form of Draco Malfoy beneath him. Oh Merlin the sight of Draco beneath him was doing very inappropriate things to him. 

Draco couldn’t know.

He would freak out.

Though of course, Draco did like boys, maybe he’d be understanding... he would probably let Harry down gently... the thought wasn’t necessarily comforting. 

Gently, so as not to wake the sleeping blond, Harry pushed himself up, preparing to sneak quietly out of Draco’s room. His plans were interrupted though when, with surprising strength, Draco tightened his grip on Harry and pulled him closer again.

“Mmm, Harry” Draco mumbled in his sleep, his arms encircling Harry as he buried his nose in Harry’s hair. 

Harry’s stomach swooped with excitement. Though he tried desperately not to read too much into it. 

But he really really wanted to read into it. 

Draco was cuddling him! And saying his name in his sleep!

So Harry did the only thing he could think of to do. He closed his eyes and wrapped himself just as tightly around Draco and pretended to be asleep. 

If this was all he would ever get from Draco then fine, he would accept it (very begrudgingly, but eventually he would find it in him) but he would make the most of this moment while it lasted.

Fortunately for him, Draco stayed asleep for a long while yet, it felt like hours (glorious, wonderful hours) before he felt Draco stir.

Draco shifted in bed and gently rolled Harry to the side, allowing him to continue ‘sleeping’ in peace before he climbed slowly out of the bed. 

It took all of Harry’s self control not to smile like a mad person when he felt Draco’s long, elegant fingers brushing his fringe back off his face and pressing a soft, barely there kiss to his forehead- on the opposite side to his scar.

He lay motionless until he heard the door softly click closed before he sat bolt upright in Draco’s massive bed. 

His hand came up to gently graze the spot that Draco had kissed. He could still feel the lignering sensation of Draco’s lips and he found himself nearly giddy with delight about it.

“Well...” Harry said aloud to himself, “this changes some things.”


	31. Chapter 31

The day of the trio’s infiltration of the Ministry came far too quickly for Draco’s liking. 

As everyone went over final plans and preparations Draco felt his stomach twisting and contorting with so much anxiety that he knew he wouldn’t be able to eat a single bite of the breakfast Kreacher had provided until Harry walked safely back through the door to Grimmauld Place. 

Harry, it seemed, thrived on the anxious energy. Only hours before attempting to break into one of the most secure buildings in the Wizarding world, not to mention the place most filled with Aurors and employees specifically on the look out for him, Harry was transformed. He went over the plans with an air of obvious authority and control. He knew every bit of this plan inside and out and he was just as confident with the parts of the plan left up to Ron and Hermione as he was with his own role. 

Harry had previously confided in Draco that he worried that he only wanted to be an Auror because there was nothing else he had ever been given as an option, that it was the default career for him. But Draco could see for the first time, clear as day, that if Harry did decide to go into Auror work, he would do exceedingly well. 

And, he reminded himself that as much as Harry was fit for the role of General in their pathetic little army, he was actually at his best when he was making snap decisions and improvising. If something were to go wrong Harry would be okay. 

He had to be.

He would be okay.

That was the part Draco had to keep telling himself.

Harry would smile and Draco would think ‘he’s going to be okay’. He scribbled down notes and reminders to himself as he went over little details of the plan with the other two and Draco would remind himself that ‘he’s going to be okay’. Draco even found himself thinking back to that small, stolen moment, of running his fingers through that soft dark hair and gently kissing his smooth forehead and he thought to himself ‘please Merlin let him be okay’. 

But he couldn’t distract Harry with any of that this morning. So instead he meticulously counted and recounted, organised and reorganised, each and every one of his medical potions that had filled an entire cupboard in the kitchen. 

No matter what state the trio came home in, Draco would have the potion to fix it, and he would know exactly where to go to get it in a fraction of a second. 

If Granger and Weasley wanted to shove him off to a corner to play the medical nurse for their gang then fine, he would make damned sure that he was the best mediwizard this team would ever encounter. 

Harry pulled Draco into one last hug before they left, his warm arms encircling him tightly as his hands gripped him closer. Almost not caring if Harry would read too much into it, Draco bent his head down to nuzzle into the crook of his neck to breath in his comforting scent. 

But of course, the moment couldn’t last. 

In less than a minute they were gone. 

The silence in the old house descended quickly over Draco and he was left alone with nothing but the house elf- dottering Merlin only knew where - and his own anxiety. Frankly the elf would have been better company. 

The hours passed painfully. 

He trusted Harry, and had believed his promises that he would be fine, but no matter how much Harry had sworn up and down that it was going to be simple, and that nothing would happen to him- he couldn’t really be sure. 

After what felt like years of pacing back and forth all over the house (he must have walked miles just going up and down the stairs, in and out of every room and through every hall and corridor in the house) Draco finally heard the door. 

Jerking his body frantically in the opposite direction to where he was facing Draco sprinted down the stairs and through the house, stopping dead in his tracks only when he heard the voice of the man who had walked in.

“OI! Anyone in here?” Corban Yaxely called, his loud voice thundering through the house.

Draco’s hand gripped his wand fiercely, his mind racing. Corban had been a prominent feature of Draco’s childhood. He and Lucius were close friends since Hogwarts, Corban had been one of Lucius’ groomsmen at his wedding. As quietly as possible, Draco stepped backwards, his heart pounding with panic. Despite having known Corban for his entire life, Draco knew that he was not safe with him in the house. 

“I know someone is in here. SHOW YOURSELF!” 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Draco continued his slow and silent retreat, hating himself for not having the courage to face him - not like Harry would. 

The problem however, with being in an old house, no matter how well restored, was that floorboards come loose with age and sometimes decide to make loud noises when one is attempting a silent get away.

Draco’s foot descended onto the floor boar slowly, unfortunately drawing out the resulting squeek for a painfully long time. 

The moment he heard it, he also heard the sound of Coban taking off into a run in his direction. Draco too, turned to flee. 

“Patrificus totallis!” 

In an instant, Draco fell to the ground as his arms snapped to his side, stiff as a board. 

Corban Yaxely approached slowly, his wand held menacingly aloft. His glare was vicious and cruel as he maliciously drew out his slow approach. 

Until he got close enough to recognise his victim. 

“Draco?” He asked, his eyes widening in alarm, “Merlin Draco! Finite, are you alright?”

“Uncle Corban” Draco greeted politely, as if he hadn’t just been accosted by one of his father’s closest friends. 

“Oh Merlin Draco, did those fucking kids kidnap you? They’re worse than I thought. Don’t you worry though, we’ll get you safely back home. Everyone has been so worried about you. Lucius and Narcissa will be thrilled to see you Draco. You have no idea, they’ve been going out of their minds, we thought you were dead but they’ve insisted if there was no body then there was still a chance. And look at you! Your father will be so proud, you’ve stood up well to whatever they’ve put you through....”

“Corban...” Draco started, interrupting the man’s fussing.

“Right, right, I’m sorry you probably don’t want to talk about it. I can understand that. Come on, lets get home. I just need to work out what spells they’ve used to trap you in here. I got in easily enough so its not fully locked down...” Yaxely mused to himself, occasionally waving his wand to test for various enchantments. 

Draco sighed, the truth had to come out eventually. “I haven’t been kidnaped, I left willingly.” He confessed.

“You left? What are you talking about?”

“All this stuff you guys do- none of it is right and I couldn’t be a part of it anymore. So I faked my own death in order to get away. I’m not going back home.”

“Draco... Draco you need to be more careful lad, saying those kinds of things can get you into some serious trouble. I think you need to come home and we’ll get you fixed up, Merlin knows what those awful kids have been doing to you.” Corban said, concern drawing his brows closer together as he approached Draco cautiously. 

Though he gave the appearance of being the worried uncle, Draco could see the way his hand tightened around his wand, he was getting ready for Draco to say something unforgivable. And he would. 

“No, you don’t understand what I’m saying. I’m here voluntarily, I’m not going back.”

Corban closed his eyes, “Draco, please, don’t say that stuff, because if you really mean it you know that makes you a traitor? You know what I have to do if I find a traitor.”

“Well then I’m a traitor. I’m sorry Uncle Corban”

“No Draco, I’m sorry. Crucio!” 

Draco fell to the ground instantly, his knees buckling under the immense pain. He watched the twisted angry look overtake the face of his Uncle as he tortured him. 

Immediately he regretted taking the very Harry like course of action. But he knew that if he had gone along with Yaxely’s desire to take him back home, he would eventually be seen by the Dark Lord, who would know in an instant everything Draco had been hiding. Everything. 

That was a risk he couldn’t afford to take. 

So he was being tortured by his uncle instead.

Gritting his teeth so hard he swore he heard them crack Draco summoned as much strength as he was capable of, with a desperate gasp he flung his wand arm forward and cried: “Septumsepra”

As quickly as the pain had come it was gone, though Draco was still left trembling violently as his body struggled to come to terms with what it had been through. He felt groggy, weak and disoriented, but he had to see what had happened, what that spell had done. 

When he crawled over to Yaxely he almost wished he hadn’t.

Gasping, and lying in a pool of gushing blood, lay Corban Yaxely. His face was contorted in a mask of pain and hatred. He tried to say something to Draco but blood bubbled out of his mouth instead, Draco’s stomach rolled. 

Draco immediately backed away, as if to try and undo what he had done. He couldn’t apparate out, not while he was still so shaken and disoriented, he’d kill them both. But he might have already killed one of them. 

Oh Merlin. 

He might have just become a murderer. 

He did’t know how long he lay there, on the floor, his arms trembling and unable to support him when he tried to get up. His head still spinning and his stomach rolling with ever increasing nausea. 

Eventually though the door burst open again. 

Draco didn’t even lift his head to see who it was. If it was another Death Eater he would be killed in an instant. The knowledge of it did nothing to motivate him to move. 

“Draco!” Harry’s voice shouted.

Harry. 

Despite feeling the most revolting he had ever felt in his entire life, Draco did feel significantly lighter at the sound of Harry calling his name. 

Harry dropped to the floor and cradled Draco’s head in his lap. His fingers gently carded through Draco’s hair as he took in the scene around him.

“I’m sorry I was so late, Ron got splinched and we weren’t sure what was going to happen to him. I didn’t think Yaxely could get in, but I swear I’ve been frantic to get back here. I’ve been going out of my mind. I should have even here, I’m so sorry. What happened Draco? Are you alright? What can I do?” Harry babbled, having no idea what the right words were for the situation. He was still trying to process everything. 

Draco looked completely beaten up and he could feel his whole body shaking. Yaxely was on the other side of the room, bleeding profusely and mumbling something to himself.

“He burst in, used the curiciatus and I... oh Merlin Harry I don’t know I might have killed him. I swear I didn’t know what that spell did. Severus taught it to me, said to use it in an emergency. Septumsempra, I swear I did’t know it would do that!” Draco explained, hating himself for how much he needed Harry to tell him it wan’t his fault. 

“Okay, one thing at a time alright. Let me help you up, we’ll get you okay and then we will sort this out. Its going to be okay? You trust me?”

Draco looked into Harry’s brilliant green eyes, so bright and earnest, and told him, “always.”

As gently as he could Harry helped Draco to stand up and hobbled him over to the kitchen where the potions had been meticulously laid out. 

Draco pointed out the ones he needed and Harry obediently raised them to Draco’s lips and coaxed him to drink them all down.

Running his hand up and down the blond’s back, he used his other hand to stuff as many potions into his pockets into a pile that he could carry as possible. They could go into Hermione’s beaded bag. Merlin knew they would probably need them. 

“You feeling a bit better?” Harry asked.

Draco just nodded. 

“Come on then. One more thing to sort out.”

Harry fished out his invisibility cloak and threw it over the pair of them, “we’re going to apparate with this over us and leave him at St Mungos. They’ll be able to patch him up.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? I’m not a fan of the man but I’m pretty sure if we just leave him he’ll bleed out and die.”

“He’s a Death Eater.” Draco pointed out uselessly. 

“This war has a high enough body count as it is Draco. I don’t care who it is, I don’t want to see more people die. Besides... I... I almost used that spell once before.”

“You? How did you even know that spell?” Draco asked, staring at Harry with wide eyes.

“I read it in my old potions book, you know, Snape’s one?”

Draco nodded, “When did you nearly use it?”

“When we had that duel in the bathroom... I forgot how to prounounce it and I didn’t do it, and seeing what it does, seeing what I almost did to you... I can’t bear it.”

“I tried to use the cruciatus on you Harry. I would have deserved it.”

“No, I remember that day, you were so far out of your mind with stress and everything that was happening to you. I don’t blame you at all.”

“Everyone else does.” Draco mumbled, “I do.”

“Well I’m not everyone else. Isn’t that why you Iike me so much?” Harry asked, allowing himself to show off a bright, cocky smile. 

The effect worked, Draco laughed. “Who says I like you Potter?”

“Oh come on, I know you love me” Harry winked.

Draco flushed bright pink at the tease, something Harry was delighted to notice. But now wasn’t really the time to say anything. 

The silence between the two stretched out for a long time. Both boys knew they were about to enter a new phase of the war and neither knew they had the resilience to deal with it. So they waited in silence, not quite willing to apparate to Ron and Hermione just yet. 

“ I know he’s on the other side of this war. And I know he didn’t hesistate to try and kill me. But I still remember him as a friend of the family. He used to always send me birthday presents. This war is really messing everyone up. Its like as soon as he realised I didn’t want to be the person he thought I was I was entirely dead to him. All that history was gone.

I’m pretty sure that he was there the day I was born. If not a few days after. He’s really close to both my parents. But if he would have killed me he would have bragged about it, to their faces. That’s what they all do, hey kill and they torture people and they stop seeing what it really means. I’m pretty sure Auntie Bella hasn’t really felt the weight of what she does to people for decades. And yet... they think they’re right... That they’re justified to do what they do because of their cause. I just... I’m struggling to see how any cause, good or bad, can be worth that. Its like you reach a point of destructiveness after which you have to forfeit the moral high ground. It’s taken me way too long to see that.”

Harry didn’t reply immediately. Draco’s introspection was so well thought out and well delivered that he didn’t want to cheapen its impact by saying whatever the first thing that came to his head was. Mainly... ‘wow’.

“I think,” he started, “that you’re seeing things far more clearly than any of us. You’re so hard on yourself for having bee involved in the Death Eaters - even though I’ve told you that you were completely raised into it and its hardly surprising and you should cut yourself a break, but thats not important- but you see this war from the perspective of someone who has experienced both sides. 

It worries me when I hear people justify brutal attacks against Death Eaters because I worry that some of them might be like you, questioning what they’ve been told and not wanting to be there anymore, and if we come off as this brutal opposition, they have to say in it because there’s nowhere else to go. I know you’re hard on yourself but don’t under estimate the value of what you can provide. 

You give us the chance to humanise the other side. Yes, some of them are monsters, some of them are completely irredeemable, but some of them are scared and don’t know what to do. We need to remember that.

As for it taking you a long time to realise this, Draco there are proper grown up adults who have been in this shit for decades and they don’t see it as clearly as you do. You ma feel like you’ve wasted time or whatever, but you’ve figured it out a lot faster than a lot of people.”

Draco said nothing, he simply rested his head down on Harry’s shoulder and stood there, allowing time to pass freely around them. 

It could have been minutes, hours or days for all he knew before Draco spoke again. 

“Alright Potter, lets go find Granger and Weasley, I guess we have a job to do.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, I'm so glad to hear you have been enjoying the story so far. I am so touched by all the lovely comments and the kudos you have been leaving.   
> Someone left a particular comment that got me thinking though, that I should maybe add 'Ron and Hermione bashing' in the tags for this story. I personally don't know if this story has crossed into the realm of Ron and Hermione bashing as I think a lot of their reactions are pretty expected for teenagers in their position. However, I would love to get some of your opinions on it. Leave your feedback down below and I'll make a decision before next chapter :)   
> Thank you again for all your support of this story <3

Arriving back at the little camp the trio had set up Draco sprang into action. His mind was buzzing far too quickly for him to be able to deal with any one thought at a time. 

Yaxely knew he was alive.

He was going to tell people.

His parents wouldn’t be grieving or worrying as much anymore. 

He probably had just earned himself a place on the Dark Lord’s hit list.

Unless of course Corban didn’t survive.

In which case Draco was a murderer. 

There was blood all over the camp.

There had been blood all over the lounge room at Grimmauld too.

Blood that Draco had spilled.

That he might have come from a man he might have killed. 

He really didn’t have the strength of mind to deal with any of those thoughts. So instead he focused on Weasley.

At least if he could help patch the ginger git up then he might make some karmic compensation for the damage he had just inflicted on the man he had once known as his ‘uncle’.

“Granger,” he snapped, “grab the vial of blood replenishing potion from Harry, Harry its the vial with the blue stopper on the top. Give it to him slowly, little bits at a time, we don’t want to overwhelm him by dosing too quickly. I’ll get to work on the scarring.”

“I did the best I could” Hermione cried, “we didn’t know we would end up here and I tried to use dittany but all it did was stop the bleeding, he nearly lost his arm and it would have been all my fault! I wasn’t prepared.”

“You were prepared, you prepared for this by making sure I had us stocked up with potions in case something like this happened. So now we can fix it, I just got a little bit held up.”

Hermione’s eyes fell to the floor, “you know that wasn’t the reason we asked you to work on the potions…”

“I know” Draco said gently, desperately holding back the vindictive side of himself that wanted to shout at her for all the crap she had put him through, but he couldn’t think about that right now, it was all too hard. Thinking of Granger and Weasley made him think of why they hated him, because he was a Death Eater, which led to thinking about who actually was a Death Eater and what he had done to them… 

Besides he definitely didn’t want to think about how Granger would tell him that Corban had deserved it. True though it may be to some people, he didn’t think he would deal well with hearing it at the moment. 

Focusing on the situation at hand was far easier.

“Thank you for helping him” Granger said, her hands visibly trembling with her worry over Weasley. 

“Of course Granger, I can hardly leave him like this can I?”

She watched with wide eyes, noting the way Draco’s own fingers still shook with the after effects of the confrontation at Grimmauld Place. Draco was pleased to note that she didn’t try to intervene, whatever she thought of him, either her sock and fear was enough to stop her from distracting the man trying to save her beau, or she trusted him, at least enough not to kill Weasley with witnesses. 

“What happened at Grimmauld Place?” She asked, her voice hushed as Draco waved his wand over the paste he had neatly traced along the seams of the jagged scar lines along Weasley’s arms.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Harry watched on, his worry for Ron and his awe at Draco’s immediate mastery over the situation both overwhelming him. Ron was still unconscious, though the deep gash lines were slowly knitting themselves back together, and his skin had lost some of its sickening green colour.

Eventually Draco levitated Weasley into a makeshift cot, assuring the two friends that “he should be fine now, but his body has been through a lot, he’ll need to sleep for a little while to recover.”

“Alright,” Hermione nodded, her eyes still not leaving Ron’s gently snoring figure, “one offs should head out to go find some food, I haven’t got any but there’s bound to be something we can snatch from somewhere.. maybe some wild mushrooms or something?” 

“Mushrooms? Snatching? What are you on about Granger?”

“Well what did you think would happen Malfoy? We’re out in the middle of nowhere and we need to eat, we can hardly pop into the nearest five star restaurant to eat can we?”

“No, but we do have in our employ a rather dedicated house elf. Whats wrong with asking him to bring some stuff?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “well first of all there’s the obvious issue of relying on slave labour, but besides that Kreacher has sold out our side before, we can’t trust him not to reveal our location.”

Harry nodded, “he told Bellatrix how to get to Sirius, he’s been a lot better lately but I don’t think calling him is a great idea.”

Draco snorted, “you guys don’t know anything about elves at all. Granger you realise Kreacher was happy to snitch on you because he didn’t like you lot? Thats the only reason. He’s like a person who doesn’t like someone, you tend to have less loyalty to them. Despite what you think of them house elves have a fair bit of agency when it comes to things like that. But he likes me, he likes my family and he actually understands the situation with me and my family. He wouldn’t want to put my mother at risk by giving her the knowledge either. You remember he kept the truth about Regulus Black’s death from his beloved mistress Walburga for years- any binding magic Regulus used would have worn off by the moment of his death, yet he decided not to betray the confidence of a master he liked. He would likely do the same now. Elves are a lot more like people than you would think, some of them will knowingly do objectively bad things because they want to do what their families want, but they can make better decisions and I’m sure Kreacher will in this situation.”

“Are you sure you’re talking about Kreacher and not yourself?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Well think about it, you’re expecting us to believe you’ve had this miraculous recovery from your former personality and suddenly won’t do any of the shit you used to do. It would make sense that if we can put aside our hesitancy here and trust Kreacher then the next logical step is to move on to trusting you.” Granger explained her hair seeming to grow larger with her increasing frustration.

“Honestly Granger, no, I wasn’t thinking any of that, mostly because I’m not completely paranoid all the time. If you don’t want to trust me then at this point, fuck it, I don’t care. The only reason it upsets me that you are so hostile to me is that it clearly upsets Harry. Beyond that I don’t give a shit if your self righteous little club accepts me or not. I’ve had plenty of chances to betray you guys already and I haven’t taken them. When Yaxely burst into the house when I was expecting you guys, he thought I had been kidnapped, that you guys had overpowered me and were keeping me hostage, do you have any idea how easy it would have been to play along with that and just go back home, safe and sound? I could have handed over all the information I have, with all the knowledge of what you guys are doing, to Voldemort, and been rewarded for it.” Draco ranted, to a slightly taken aback Hermione. He decided not to mention that of course, there were plenty of things in his head that Voldemort would have most decidedly not rewarded him for, specifically his increasingly inappropriate thoughts about the Dark Lord’s nemesis. But Granger didn’t need to know that. 

“But I didn’t go with him.” Draco continued, pacing around the campsite, “instead I outed myself as a traitor and got tortured for it. Not that you care at all. Then I get back here and immediately jump to help Weasley here, where I very easily could have poisoned him further and just told you that he had bled out, not something that was out of the realm of possibility anyway. But I didn’t. And I won’t. Is if i’m telling you that Kreacher can be trusted, I say that having already weighed up all the possible pros and cons. Weasley has lost a lot of blood, he’s going to need food when he wakes up and judging by how disgusting his appetite is when he’s got all his blood neatly inside of him I’m going guess he’s going to need a lot of it. Not to mention any of the rest of us. The biggest risk we have in trusting Kreacher is the small chance that he goes to mother, which he would only do if he felt we were in too much danger for him to be of any assistance. Besides, even if he did go to mother, she would never use that information against me.”

“Wouldn’t she?” Granger asked, raising a challenging brow.

“Of course not! She’s my mum!” 

“She’s also a Death Eater, she might not sell you out but she could sure as hell sell all the rest of us out.” Hermione protested.

“First of all, my mother isn’t a Death Eater, my father is but not mother. She prefers to remain uncommitted in these kinds of things. Second of all, don’t presume you know anything about her, if she thought we were allies she would protect you as much as me.”

“Even though I’m muggle born?” 

“Even if you were troll born Granger, keeping you safe would mean I was safer, she wouldn’t risk that.”

“Well I don’t think I’m getting anywhere with this. Harry? What do you think?” Granger asked, “Kreacher knowingly sold out Sirius, he’s the reason he’s dead now, do you really want him knowing any more than is strictly necessary?”

Harry’s brows pinched together uncomfortably as he struggled with being thrown such a difficult choice. He bore responsibility well, but he didn’t enjoy being the person that everyone expected to make the difficult decisions. Most of the time he just wanted to do what everyone else decided was best. 

“I see Hermione’s point, Draco. Kreacher has betrayed us in the past and unlike you, he hasn’t really won a lot of that trust back yet. I don’t think I feel comfortable with him knowing our location all the time. But I also agree with Draco… we can’t go without food. I’m just trying to think if there’s a middle ground somewhere.”

“Harry honestly, this isn’t a case where you can make everyone happy. You know the right thing to do here you just don’t want to say it because you don’t want to piss Malfoy off. Don’t you see why Ron and I are worried- you’re so concerned with offending him that its like you won’t even think for yourself!”

“And by think for yourself you obviously mean do what you say blindly?” Draco snarked.

“Stop it!” Harry snapped, “Hermione, I am perfectly happy to disagree with Draco, and I do it plenty but I can also just agree with him because he has a good point. He’s my friend, and just like I do with you, I take his opinions into consideration because I trust his judgement. But right now you’re both acting like it has to be so one way or the other and if I agree with one of you I’m choosing one of you over the other which is ridiculous. Why can’t we just go right down the middle, we enlist Kreacher’s help but we don’t show him where we are, we find a neutral location and apparate there to meet him and come straight back with the supplies. I could even go under my invisibility cloak and a disillusionment charm under me so there is no chance that anyone can accidentally see me? Is that so impossible?”

Draco’s brows arched up in surprise, guilt settling uncomfortably in his stomach as he heard how distressed his argument with Granger had made him. And yet, even emotionally agitated, Harry was able to find a very elegant solution. “Thats a really good idea actually.”

“Fine.” Granger sighed, still unwilling to admit even a small defeat, “I can see I’m out voted.”

“Harry,” she said, picking the ’S’ engraved locket off the table in the the middle of the tent, “we can get food tomorrow, but one of us should keep watch and make sure the Horcrux doesn’t get lost, I think we should be wearing it to keep it safe. I want to stay by Ron and make sure he recovers alright from everything, but if you insist I wear it and stay up tonight I will.”

What a manipulative little cow, Draco thought to himself. If it weren’t for her parentage Granger would have made an excellent Slytherin. 

Wordlessly Harry took the locket and fastened it around his neck, heading to sit outside to watch until someone took over from him. 

Draco followed without prompting.

“Draco, go back inside, you’ve been through so much today you need rest.” Harry protested when he noticed Draco getting a seat beside him. 

“I don’t want to sleep right now,” Draco lied, “I’ll just keep replaying it…” 

Of course, he would be replaying it regardless of if he slept or not, but Harry understood nightmares and he wouldn’t push Draco to sleep if he believed that was what he was avoiding- and then he wouldn’t have to sit alone in the cold. Sure, Draco could be manipulative too, but he hoped it counted for something that he manipulated Harry in order to look out for him, while Granger had done so to punish him. Hopefully it made a difference. 

 

***

Once their little group had settled into camping out, the days quickly bled into one another. Harry would apparate out every few days to a beach in Brighton and return with a picnic basket filled up by the diligent house elf. Weasley was recovering well, and his arms showed no sign of the trauma they had gone through only days earlier, though his mood was soured by the constant need to wear the necklace.

Everyone’s mood was soured by needing to wear the necklace. 

It was horrible.

Of course, theoretically it made sense that wearing a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul around one’s neck would be off putting, but it seemed to bring with it a cloud of misery. Like wearing a tiny little dementor wherever you went. 

It started to affect each of the group in different ways. Though none of them quite noticed how drastic the changes were. Horcrux hunting, it seemed, would challenge the very foundation of the relationships between the little group.

Hermione, having always been something of a know it all, became almost unbearable. Her search for answers on how to destroy the Horcrux they had, and how to locate the ones they didn’t, was reaching manic levels. Daily she forced the group to go back over all they knew, searching for a piece of information hidden somewhere that one of them might have somehow failed to disclose. The boys learned very quickly not to question the point of going over the same thing for the hundredth time as they were quickly on the receiving end of a shouting match that none of them were ready to deal with. Over the coming weeks Hermione even began to doubt that their mission would ever be successful, that they needed to go home and come up with a new plan to defeat Voldemort differently. She was supposed to be the brains in their friendship group and if she was sharing that load now with Malfoy then what would she have to show for herself after the war? The nastier part of her subconscious whispered to her that she could make history herself if she found another way to defeat Voldemort on her own, without Harry. No one would ever question her right to be in the Wizarding world again if she pulled that off. 

Ron had always been insecure, the last brother in a line of five he was always overshadowed by the successes of his brothers, and then Ginny had come along, taking the place as the baby of the family. Ron had always felt invisible and life at camp was slowly becoming an exercise in constantly wondering if anyone would even notice if he didn’t show up one day. Harry seemed to have a new best friend, Hermione was probably annoyed at Malfoy’s presence because she was jealous that he was monopolising Harry’s time. And Malfoy was just always fucking there. Despite the fact that Malfoy had probably saved him some very long term damage from his splinching accident, he still left Ron constantly on edge, like a fight was just about to break out. He had always been prone to aggression but it now sprang to the surface faster than ever before. All the others had to walk on eggshells around Ron lest they provoke his now explosive anger, which of course, only fed into his feeling that no one wanted him around.

Draco of course, was also no stranger to insecurity, but he had never quite experienced it on the same scale before. He knew full well that he was unwanted in the camp by Granger and Weasley, that much was beyond obvious, but he quickly began to wonder if Harry only wanted him around because of his constant need to be helping people. Draco was nothing more than his charity case. He’d be disgusted if he ever found out the ways he thought of him. He didn’t even think of him as a friend, yet alone anything more than that, and he never would. Having lived most of his life wearing a mask, Draco returned quickly to his familiar patterns. He allowed his accent to become slightly posher than natural, he sneered and glared and drenched every word he said in a thick layer of sarcasm and snark. He stopped sitting with Harry on watch, feeling sick at the thought of how relieved Harry probably was about it. He spent most of his days in silence, interrupted by the occasional shout from Weasley and Granger or his own repetitions to the pair of information he had already disclosed, they didn’t trust him, none of them did. At the end of the war he would either be killed by the Death Eaters for betraying the cause or shipped off to Azkaban with the other Death Eaters by the side of the Order of the Phoenix. However it went, he was screwed. The only thing keeping him going was the terrible acknowledgement that despite knowing that he was screwed, he wanted to stay to make sure Harry wouldn’t be. Even if Harry didn’t want him there. 

Harry had grown up unwanted. Truly and deeply unwanted by the people who were responsible for caring for him. So as the mood soured around camp in the passing weeks, he recognised the signs very quickly. He knew that Ron and Hermione were disappointed in him, he knew that Draco was sick of him, he knew that the whole Wizarding world was counting on him and that in all likelihood he would fail them. It was a feeling he knew well. His heart cracked as he yearned to be near Draco again, to pull him in close and let everything else melt away, but Draco’s savage glares held him at bay. It would break his heart if Draco actually told him he was sick of him. Unlike the rest of the group, Harry personally held a lot of responsibility for the war, everyone knew that Harry had to be the one to kill Voldemort, and Harry felt every passing day like a punch in the stomach. Ron kept obsessively listening to the wireless and every day Harry heard the names of those who had been killed, people Harry hadn’t been fast enough to save. It was all his fault. And he knew that Ron, Hermione and Draco all knew it too. No wonder Draco was being so different, it probably dawned on him how truly pathetic Harry was. He deserved so much better than him, a failed Chosen One. Draco deserved the whole world. And Harry would make sure he got it. Even if he wasn’t a part of it.


	33. Chapter 33

The mood around their little makeshift camp continued to worsen as the days blurred into weeks. 

As the gang moved from campsite to campsite and the reality of their ignorance of their situation became more and more painfully clear, the general sense of pessimism and despair flourished.

No one was on speaking terms with anyone for a whole variety of bizarre and increasingly petty reasons. 

Ron and Hermione had stopped speaking after they had a rather explosive argument following Ron’s comment that he was worried about how his parents were going. To which Hermione had argued was nothing compared to how worried she was about her parents. Ron responded by trying to remind her that her parents were safely in Australia, with false names, they were unlikely to be tracked down or found, whereas his parents home address was a matter of public record. Hermione had called him selfish, insensitive and ‘worse than Malfoy’. Ron, naturally fired up by the accusation, told her that she was just getting angry about this because she needed to be angry about something in order to feel productive because she ‘obviously’ wasn’t getting anywhere with their mission. 

That had been five days ago. 

They hadn’t spoken since. 

Harry wasn’t speaking to Ron and Hermione out of his own sense of self preservation. He was acutely aware at all times of how much he was letting his best friends down. He didn’t want to risk talking to them and starting a fight and telling him that they were finished with him. He stayed hidden in the shadows instead, for the first time ever feeling genuinely afraid to spend time with his friends. His lifetime of neglect and overwork meant that Harry was carrying the rest of the group n terms of chores- he made sure the tent was clean every night and volunteered to take over as many shifts on watch as he could physically handle. On mornings when he would go out to meet Kreacher for food Harry didn’t have to wear the locket, even if it was his turn- the risk of something happening while he was away from camp was too great. He now cherished this time, and had started (guiltily) taking longer and longer on his trips for food, just taking some time away from the tense and aggressive atmosphere of camp to try and recatch his breath. Hermione of course, had noticed that he would do it and demanded that when he return from getting food he took a double shift with the locket.

Harry and Draco weren’t on speaking terms either, though for an entirely different reason. A side effect of living in such close quarters was an instant intimacy between the campers. Everyone knew when someone was in their little shower, they all slept in close quarters and got to know all about all the little details of each other. When it came to Weasley and Granger Draco was of course, horrified, but being in such close quarters with Harry was entirely distracting. Constantly he was reminded of how seriously his feelings would ruin things with Harry, and yet he couldn’t help himself, not wiht him so close and so present. Every time he caught a glimpse of Harry’s downcast eyes and deep dark circles he wanted nothing more than to pull him into a close hug and hold him until it all went away. But he couldn’t. He would never be able to. So he did what he had to do, he kept his distance. Harry was, unbeknownst to Draco, doing the same thing. He too was battling a nearly crippling insecurity. Draco was just everywhere, all the time, in front of him, in the bed beside him, in that fucking shower stall and even when he wasn’t in front of him he was completely in his thoughts. It was painful. 

It was painful for all of them.

They all knew they couldn’t keep going on like that. No one could be miserable for that long without something snapping eventually. 

Perhaps it was unsurprising that Ron was the first to snap. Despite Draco’s spoiled upbringing he was no stranger to long periods of stress or misery, he had of course been feeling the strain, but it was Ron, who had always had a strong support network and who had always been able to depend on his emotional outlets (playing quiddich, storming away, venting to someone else etc) who buckled under the pressure. 

There was nothing obviously different about the day. Hermione was angrily muttering to herself, going over once again the limited knowledge the group had, trying to say it in a different order or picking apart different individual words to see if some new meaning might spring forth. 

Harry and Draco were sitting next to each other, not speaking and determinedly not looking at each other, but secretly drawing comfort from the fact that the other was near. 

Out of nowhere, Ron came storming in and throwing himself angrily onto the little sofa in their makeshift living room. He did that whenever he wore the locket, threw himself around in a loud strop, making sure everyone around him could hear just how angry he was. Not that they would have needed he clue in had he have been more quiet. 

Draco’s eyes snapped up, startled by Ron’s sudden appearance. In a brief moment he would regret not ignoring the giant raging ginger. 

“And just what the fuck do you think you’re looking at Malfoy?” He spat, eyes glaring savagely at Draco in a way they hadn’t quite done in the immediate days following Draco’s intervention in Ron’s injury. 

“I’m sorry,” Draco said with a sneer, a tone which he had perfected so flawlessly over the years and which had always inspired a furious reaction in any Weasley he had used it on. “I was just startled to see you, given the tone of your arrival I was rather expecting to find a deranged elephant. You can forgive my momentary surprise when I realised that the sound I thought was an actual stampede coming through the tent was actually just a passive aggressive moron doing his very best to make sure everyone around him was just as fucking useless and miserable as he was. But I suppose it was an honest mistake.”

Draco was sick of tip toeing around the ginger git, if he wanted a fight, he could damn well have one for all Draco cared. 

This too would be an attitude he would soon come to regret. 

Ron’s face immediately darkened to an unattractive, blotchy red as his features onto red in vicious anger. 

“Listen here Malfoy! I know you’re loving your time as Harry’s little charity project, but don’t forget the only reason the rest of your miserable family haven’t come to finish you off is because Hermione and I haven’t told them where you are. But keep acting like the evil little snake you are and I might just decide to get the message out there, save myself some trouble in the long run.”

Draco rose immediately to his feet, “are you threatening me Weasley?”

“Yes. I really thought it was obvious really. You have to play nice with us, and since you’ve never been able to do that before I don’t really have a lot of hope that you’re going to be able to do it now. So maybe we should save ourselves some time and jut assume you’re still the smarmy bastard you’ve always been and kick you out- see how long you’ll survive on your own out there, keep our hands clean that way too.” Ron smirked, as someone who had never really been much for self satisfied smirking, the action was strikingly unpleasant. Despite Ron’s tendency towards a more aggressive streak than his other friends, his general manner was usually pleasant, and when he was angry he was just angry, not vindictive or cruel. 

Noticing the distinct change Harry sprung up from his own seat. “Ron! What the fuck! You can’t just threaten to have someone killed! Especially someone who patched up your arm when they didn’t have to. Who prepared an entire potions lab to bring along with us in case we need anything. Who has been trying his best to stay out of your way this whole time because he knows you don’t want him here. You keep calling Draco a bully, and sure, even I won’t deny that but since we came to Grimmauld Place the only bullies around here have been you and Hermione.”

“Hermione and I... right, sure, your two best friends. The first real friends you ever had. Yeah, we’re the problem. Harry this arsehole has brainwashed you so completely that you can’t even hear how insane you sound. We aren’t the bullies Harry, we are the good guys, and Malfoy isn’t. He may not have done anything to us recently but you can’t cure evil.”

Harry gave a frustrated sigh and raked his hands angrily through his hair “We aren’t ever going to be the good guys if we treat people the way you treat Draco. You’re allowed to be angry about the stuff he’s done in the past, I won’t tell you that you don’t have the right to be hurt by what he’s done. But when your best friend tells you they’ve changed, and they stop doing what they did to hurt you before, can’t you trust that there’s a least a chance that maybe I’m not brainwashed, maybe you’re just blinded by your own hatred.”

Ron gaped at Harry, his mouth dropping in confused anger “You know what Harry? Fuck this. Well and truly fuck this. I used to be the one you sided with on everything, now its like the only person who matters to you is Malfoy. Its disgusting and frankly I don’t have to put up with it. You’re the Chosen One, not Hermione or I, so if I’m not wanted around here then maybe I should just go and leave you to vanquish Voldemort all on your own. You can bring Malfoy along and no one will be upset by it that way. Problem solved.”

“You’re leaving?” Harry asked, the air rapidly leaving his lungs. 

“Yeah, I reckon I am. Hermione? What are you going to do?” Ron called out.

Hermione had, of course, heard the whole exchange, there was no where any of them could have gone not to be overheard, and Ron and Draco hadn’t exactly been having a hushed discussion. Nevertheless she pretended she hadn’t heard anything. “What’s going on?”

“Ron’s leaving.” Harry said, “reckons he’s had enough of Draco and of me defending him. Thinks its unfair that I won’t throw him back to the Death Eaters and let them have him. What do you think?”

“Ron?” Hermione prompted. 

“I just think Harry used to need us, you and I, and now he’s got Malfoy its like we come second. We’ve been wandering around the countryside for weeks and nothing has happened. We aren’t any closer to solving anything. Harry has no idea what he’s doing and all he seems to really care about is listening the the wireless, following Malfoy around like a crup and telling us to basically sod off. If I’m not wanted around here I reckon its time for me to just go. You might want to think about doing the same. When’s the last time Harry came to you about this mission, I know you’re sick of feeling like you have to nag for new information- maybe he even has some and just hasn’t told you because he has Malfoy to tell now. I think its just bullshit, all of it.” Ron fumed.

Hermione turned her gaze on Harry. “And nothing Ron said convinced you to ditch Malfoy?”

“No.” Harry said plainly. He offered no defence, because really, why bother? He could see in their faces that they had both made up their mind, he wasn’t going to kick Draco out and he wasn’t going to beg them to stay if they didn’t want to.

“Then I think you’ve made our decision for us.” Hermione said.

Harry’s jaw clenched tightly as he watched them gather a few things and turn to leave the tent, he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing how much their ultimatum was breaking his heart. 

Instead of saying something... anything... about any of it, Harry called out spitefully “Don’t take the locket with you.”

Ron turned and threw it at his head before disapparating, Hermione in hand. 

Harry caught it immediately and placed it down on the table “don’t know why Hermione insisted on us wearing the damn thing. I’m leaving it here.”

“Harry...” Draco began, his voice wavering slightly in his shock at the situation.

“No. Don’t I can’t talk about it just yet. I’ll go sit out and take watch.”

So Draco let him go outside, to sit by himself to get his thoughts in order. He, of course would have preferred an immediate debrief of everything both of them were thinking. But it was really up to Harry at this stage. Even Draco couldn’t believe what had happened, he could only imagine what Harry was thinking. 

It was over an hour before Draco approached him. Awkwardly sliding down to sit at the same tree stump as Harry before he voiced his concern.

“Harry... I’m not sure about this... if Weasley and Granger’s biggest problem was me being here it isn’t worth it for you to ruin your whole mission just for me. I can go back to Grimmauld Place, I’m sure the Death Eaters will have done a sweep and will be unlikely to come back...” Draco offered, his eyes downcast. 

“Ron and Hermione didn’t leave because of you. If they were they would have done it as soon as they saw you in Grimmauld, we’ve been around each other for weeks and while they haven’t been happy about it, they never threatened to leave. You were just a convenient excuse so they could pretend to have the moral high ground when really they just want to leave because they’re disappointed by me.” Harry explained, leaning his head down on his bent knees. 

 

After a long silence Harry spoke again, “How long until you leave too? How long until you realise that I’m not the person they all want on that pedestal. They’re right, I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m just as scared as they are, but I can’t tell them that or its like I’ve failed. But how is that fair? None of the Order have managed to defeat Voldemort, not one Auror has gotten even close. Most grown ups can’t even say his fucking name but because there’s some prophecy they feel like they can just go ‘oh good, we don’t have to do shit, Harry has to fix it’. Just because there’s a fucking prophecy doesn’t mean I actually know what to do.” Harry’s voice had dissolved into a high picked crack as tears threatened to spill out his emerald eyes, “I don’t know what I’m doing Draco...”

Draco’s heart cracked in sympathy. “Oh Harry come here” he said, pulling him into a hug. 

Harry clung to him fiercely, as if he were drowning and Draco was a floatation device thrown his way. 

“I won’t leave you” Draco told him, gently running his fingers through Harry’s mess of hair, calming the other boy down, softly and slowly.

“Harry,” Draco said, taking a deep breath to get his thoughts in order, “I know you’re scared. I know you think you can’t do this. I know you stay up listening to that damn wireless every night punishing yourself for every person who has been injured or killed in this mess. But you need to understand that you are only human. You’re a seventeen year old human being and this situation would be completely overwhelming to anyone. 

There are far too many people out there who want to see you as the ‘saviour’ and who want to believe that you have some sort of otherworldly capability. But you spent half of last year leaning a bout how underneath all that megalomania the Dark Lord is also really just a person. A completely psychopathic person, but a person none the less. He’s not some sort of a God or daemon who has come to us to destroy us all, he’s just a man. And so are you. People want the pair of you to be bigger than you are because it means they aren’t responsible. If the Dark Lord is some purely evil entity then the Order and the Aurors don’t need to try and kill him, they can write it off as impossible and wait for the hero to come save the day. But none of it is true! 

Anyone who makes you feel like you’re a failure for not being the mythological version of the Great Harry Potter needs to fuck right off. Even Granger and Weasley. I know they’re your friends but they have just as much of a tendency as the others to put you on a pedestal.”

“So you won’t leave me because I’m ordinary?” Harry said, laughing awkwardly. 

“Because I’m not interested in The Great Harry Potter, I don’t want you to be a mythological hero. I am here because you’re Harry. As yourself, you are entirely worth following. You are completely extraordinary but not in any sort of magical powers kind of a way- you’re extraordinary for the completely ordinary and wonderful person that you are.”

For the first time in weeks, Harry smiled. A warm, true smile that had him feeling more optimistic than he had in a long time.


	34. Chapter 34

Since Ron and Hermione’s departure, Harry and Draco had stopped wearing the locket. It was just too hard to function with it on and honestly, part of Harry had just wanted to spite Hermione by refusing to play by her rules once she left. 

But it had been a huge mood booster to finally ditch it in Hermione’s discarded beaded bag. 

Things between Harry and Draco were starting to return to the joking and bantering nature they had enjoyed back in Hogwarts- nearly a lifetime ago. 

This time though there was a definite edge to the way Harry’s thought of Draco turned - when once he would lose himself in thinking about how much he liked spending time with Draco he was now losing himself in thinking about how pink Draco’s lips were. Or how good he looked when he got too lazy to shave and got a bit scruffy. Harry was chatting with Draco as his mind totally dropped the conversation when Draco’s tongue peeked out to wet his lips as he told Harry a story. 

That tongue! How was Harry honestly supposed to listen to anything Draco was saying with the knowledge that that thing was there, so close and pink and visible and Harry had no idea what it would feel like or taste like.... it was really too much to ask. 

Draco glared as he saw Harry’s eyes fully glaze over, unaware of the fantasies he had lost him to, “and so I said to her, Mrs. Weasley I can’t run away with you I’m afraid I couldn’t do that to Mr. Weasley and your hundreds of children- it would be wrong.”

“Yeah, I bet” Harry agreed, nodding absently. 

“HARRY!”

“What?”

“Do you have any idea what I was talking about?”

Harry panicked, “You were saying that its been so long that you’ve used Crabbe and Goyle’s last names you’re not sure which first name goes with which and you think its too late to ask..?”

Draco blinked, “No… that wasn’t at all what I was saying… its accurate, but it wasn’t what I was saying…” He snickered the anger at Harry’s disinterest melting away with the absurdity of the guess.

“I’m sorry, I just got distracted, what were you saying?”

“It doesn’t matter, come on we may as well start on some breakfast- do you want to go meet Kreacher?” 

Harry agreed, disapparating with a promise to return as soon as possible. He met with Kreacher, refused yet again to reveal details about where he and Draco were actually hiding out and made some polite conversation with the elf to be polite about how he was doing before accepting the basket. Alongside his usual basket of food the old elf had in his arms a Daily Prophet newspaper. 

Holding it out to Harry with his long skeletal fingers Kreacher said “Kreacher is thinking that master may be finding this issue to be of interest.”

Thanking the elf, Harry’s eyes scanned the page quickly before returning as fast as he could back to the campsite.

The loud crack of his apparation startled Draco who was seated outside the door to the tent, his eyes trained studiously on the forest for intruders. Instinctively he drew for his wand at the sound, before letting out a relieved breath when he saw Harry’s face.

Harry’s face which split into a heartbreakingly cheerful smile at the sight of Draco.

“Look what Kreacher gave me” Harry said, plopping himself down completely inelegantly beside Draco.

With little fuss, Harry unwrapped the Prophet and positioned the paper between both of their legs so they could both read together. 

“MINISTRY WORKER GRAVELY INJURED IN ANOTHER ATTACK ON OUR WAY OF LIFE.” The article began,

“Corban Yaxely, a longtime Ministry employee, and one of the forerunners in our fight to restore the magical world to glory, has been inured in attempting to carry out his duty in keeping our world safe. We are just now receiving word from St Mungo’s hospital that Yaxely will be making a full and swift recovery. In the immediate days following his attack, one Healer reported, Mr. Yaxely wanted no information regarding his ordeal to be made public, “I think he knows how divided and scared the people are, and didn’t want his unfortunate circumstance to add fuel to that, he really is such a gentle and kind man. He wouldn’t even name his attacker for the longest time. It wasn’t until some close friends of his paid him a visit and convinced him to go public with the story. I think they brought him around to the fact that this is really something the wizarding world needs to know about.”   
The name of the attacker, Draco Malfoy. Malfoy (17) has been missing since last July and though his parents have denied to comment, many close friends of the Malfoy family have reported that they have been frantic with worry over their son. Sad to know how undeserving the young Malfoy turned out to be of that worry.   
The Malfoy family has long been close friends of the Yaxelys and it takes little searching to find many pictures of Lucius Malfoy, the father of the alleged attacker, attending ministry functions and events together. Yaxely was even the best man at Malfoy’s wedding to Narcissa Malfoy (née Black).   
Upon investigation it seems this brutal attack is very much out of the ordinary for Malfoy. He has historically boasted top marks at school (barring some unfortunate biases of certain Hogwarts staff members), he was a player on the Slytherin Quiddich team since his second year, a house prefect and a key player in the house politics of his Hogwarts house. From a young age Malfoy was brought along to ministry events by his father and was poised to take over management of the expansive Malfoy estate when he finished school, set to eventually inherit the title of Lord Malfoy.   
So what caused this young, otherwise successful boy to commit a crime so brutal?  
Well, Yaxely himself alleges that Malfoy is deeply under the control of Undesirable Number One. Is it the Imperius Curse or has Malfoy simply been radicalised by the criminal mastermind? Is he as much a victim as Yaxely or has Malfoy turned his back on all the good our world has provided him? No one yet knows, though our readers will be updated as soon as any new information becomes available.  
In the meantime Witches and Wizards who see Malfoy are advised to exercise extreme caution as Malfoy may still be extremely dangerous. If anyone does see him, please contact the ministry immediately. The Yaxely family are offering a 500 galleon reward to anyone who can give them the precise location of the wayward boy.”

Draco skimmed the article, his eyes not really making sense of what they were taking in. “Why are you showing me this? To prove that my family are messed up? To show how much more danger I’m in?”

“No!” Harry protested, quickly trying to correct the situation, “no not at all, I was trying to show you that he’s okay! I know you’re still worried about what happened with Yaxely and see, he’s going to make a full recovery! And apparently he’s well enough to be whining to the press so he’s probably fine. You didn’t kill him!”

In all honesty that realisation hadn’t quite hit Draco in his first read through of the article, but his eyes quickly skimmed through it one more time a Harry’s words. 

He wasn’t a murderer. 

He had horrifically injured someone, but it was I self defence and they would be okay. Morally he figured he could live with that. 

“Thank you” Draco sad, “for showing me this. I’v been worrying about it but it hadn’t even hit me how much until reading this.”

“I know, you mutter bits and pieces about it in your sleep still. I knew it was weighing on you.”

Draco smiled, “and in other news, everyone now knows that I’m travelling with you... Undesirable Number One. That should make things interesting.”

Harry shuffled his feet, “yeah.... I’m sorry about that. I sort of thought maybe that would happen when we didn’t obliviate him. I shouldn’t have been so careless I just got so worried with you being so injured.”

“Its alright. I figured it was inevitable so we would have had to deal with it eventually. We’ll be okay. You did really well that day. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” 

Draco’s storm grey eyes met Harry’s and he stalled anxiously as he noted the change in their tone. 

Harry had stepped closer, right into Draco’s personal space, there was only a hair’s breath in between them and Harry’s large shining eyes were looking up at him with an expression that had Draco itching to grab him. 

“I don’t know what I would do without you on any day” Harry replied, his voice dropped down to a husky whisper. 

Draco opened his mouth, trying to find the words to say... whatever he needed to say to get Harry to move just that little bit closer. Instead of something romantic or sexy all he could think of was to breath “Harry”.

Apparently that was all he needed to say.

Harry rose up to match Draco’s slight height advantage and finally pressed his lips gently against Draco’s. 

Instinctively Draco’s arms wrapped firmly around Harry to hold him in place as he returned the kiss. 

It was gentle, soft and exploratory, with both of them moving slowly and with great care, as if fearful that any enthusiasm would frighten the other away. Harry tried desperately to keep any sounds from embarrassingly breaking out of him as Draco’s tongue lightly traced the seam of his lips, to which he happily granted access- suppressing a completely shameless whimper in the process. 

Only when Draco’s hands found their way into Harry’s hair, and pulled gently that Harry’s control over his reactions snapped, he moaned loudly into Draco’s mouth and surged himself even closer to try and get even more. 

Draco pulled away, his eyes shining and pupils dark, “wow, Harry, I...” he tried, looking for a way to express how phenomenally amazing that was.

“No,” Harry whined, “don’t stop now that was really good!”

Draco’s face split into to the biggest smile Harry had ever seen on him. It was beautiful, though he didn’t get long to enjoy the view- Draco gave him something else to enjoy instead. 

He pulled Harry against him once again, this time refusing to hold back at all. 

The kiss was demanding, passionate and hot as all hell. Harry melted.

Draco was a phenomenal kisser, though Harry’s experience was limited he couldn’t imagine anyone being better at it. He took control easily, though he wasn’t agressive. Harry had found his experience with kissing to be awkward and fumbling as he struggled to know what to do, now all he had to do was follow Draco’s lead, which he did with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. 

Draco’s lips, his tongue, his wandering hands, they all unleashed a completely new wave of desire in Harry, in an instant his mind flashed with an amazing assortment of ideas of where this could go. But he couldn’t act on those, not yet anyway. Ugh that word. Yet. It was so beautiful to think that now the only thing holding him back from his most explicit desires with Draco was a desire not to be over eager, and not any disinterest on the blond’s part.

Draco’s mind had gone entirely blank as he continued to kiss Harry. Having always been plagued with constant worries and plans, he was used to his thoughts buzzing around multiple different things at a time. Kissing Harry brought... quiet. A kind of wonderful, peaceful quiet that he hadn’t known he had been craving so desperately until it was finally given to him. He allowed his hands to roam wherever he pleased, enjoying the sensations of Harry’s body beneath his hands and of Harry’s own hands exploring him. He indulged in the sounds Harry made as he kissed and nipped at the sides of Harry’s jaw and down his throat, but he thought of nothing at all as he surrendered entirely to instinct. He had never known that his instincts were so good, but given the way Harry squirmed and writhed beneath him Draco was perfectly happy to let them have control. 

Though the pair were entwined for ages, it still felt too soon when they finally pulled apart, their breath coming in short pants and their lips swollen and flushed with use. 

They stared at each other, happiness overflowing between them, Harry’s bright green eyes nearly glowing from within with a deep seeded contentment he couldn’t contain. He beamed at Draco, loving the way his face flushed with a bashful embarassment even after the way he had so confidently taken control only minutes ago. 

“That was awesome” Harry declared. 

Draco’s face somehow went even redder and he dropped his head down onto Harry’s shoulder before nodding his agreement. 

“How are you so embarrassed? You did great” Harry laughed, Draco was so sexy and self assured but it was nice to catch a glimpse now and then of the side of him that he never showed anyone, the side that was a bit awkward and prone to completely unfounded insecurity. 

“Was it?” He asked, his thoughts back to shouting everything that could have possibly gone wrong during that truly epic snog. He might have been too agressive, or not agressive enough, maybe he was too handsy, or used too much tounge? How much tongue was one supposed to use? Oh he really should have read a book on this before diving right in. But diving right in had been, to borrow Harry’s word, awesome. 

“Of course it was!” Harry reassured with a laugh, “Wait... oh Merlin... was that your first kiss?”

“What?” Draco asked, stepping back out of Harry’s arms, “you can’t tell me it was good and then ask if it was my first time doing it- that would imply that it definitely wasn’t good!”

 

“I thought it was great! Best kiss I’ve ever had, easily- I mean, I don’t have a lot of experience there but I mean that blew the others out of the water completely- but I just wondered, given the reaction if maybe you hadn’t...” Harry explained, his hands coming up in a mock surrender. Draco could act as cranky as he wanted, the bright red blush somehow made him just look adorable. 

“I’ve done a bit of experimenting here and there I’ll have you know but.... well... I’ve never done anything like that. And not with someone like you.”

“Someone like me? What, a boy? I haven’t kissed a boy before either.”

“No, I’ve snogged boys before... I mean someone I really like....you know... romantically....” Draco said, biting his lip. He had finally kissed Harry, it might be time to confess the nature of his feelings as well. 

“I really like you too Draco.” Harry said, “more than I’ve ever liked anyone.”

“So come back here” Draco said simply, pulling Harry back against him and kissing him soundly.


	35. Chapter 35

Life at camp improved very quickly once Harry started snogging Draco on a regular basis, he decided. Though it was still cold, and they still had no idea what they were doing and despite the unfortunate circumstance of the fate of the entire wizarding world still rest on his shoulders, finally getting to pull Draco into a kiss, or wrap his arms around him and just lean on his chest whenever he wanted were making him feel lighter than air. 

And it wasn’t just Harry taking advantage of the change in their relationship dynamic (and the absence of any nosy onlookers). Every so often Draco would peek up from behind the book he was reading and smile at Harry, placing his book down deliberately slowly and sauntering over to him before pulling him into another searing kiss that left Harry absolutely melted. Draco’s initial shyness had melted away quickly once he realised that Harry was just as enthusiastic about kissing him as he was. It really wasn’t fair how good he was at doing it, Harry all too often found himself embarrassingly unable to think straight after snogging Draco. But he didn’t complain. 

When one of them was on watch, the other would often come out with a cup of tea, of sit with hem and tell stories, chat about whatever was on their mind or just lean on them and enjoy the silence. 

The crippling insecurity that had come with weeks of uncertainty and not knowing how the other felt had finally melted away and the boys were taking full advantage of the weight that had been lifted from their shoulders. 

They were no more productive than they had been before, that was unfortunately true, but Harry’s newfound happiness made way for an optimism he had never known he had. 

He had to win this. 

He was going to win this. 

Once he won this he would get to be with Draco like a normal person and go on dates, in public! They would meet each other’s families and graduate from school, maybe they would get jobs in the Ministry and move in together.

He didn’t know what they would do but he desperately didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to find out. 

He had never known that uncertainty could feel so liberating.

This newly embraced optimism and hope for the future was what inspired him to do something different. So one morning (after spending an obscene amount of time kissing Draco good morning) Harry suggested that they go and visit Godric’s Hollow.

“I was wondering when you would ask me that” Draco said, his arms still wrapped securely around Harry’s waist.

“How did you know I’d even ask it? I didn’t know I was going to ask it.”

“Its a place important to Dumbledore, so I’m sure you’re hoping to find answers to this whole puzzle he’s laid out for you but its also where your parents lived, I can imagine you’ve been wanting to see it for a while. The allure of the two of them together would make it a pretty appealing place for you to go see. And thats before you consider that Bathilda Bagshot lives there, and she was good friends with both your parents and Dumbledore so she might know something too. And of course, we can’t forget your natural Gryffindorishness is likely pulling you like a siren call to the spiritual homeland of all Gryffindors.”

Harry snorted at the last part, but considered the more serious part of Draco’s reasoning, “Yeah... that makes sense... so why do I feel like you’re about to tell me its a bad idea?”

Draco laughed, “I’m not saying its a bad idea, only that I think we need to be sure we are well disguised before going and we take a lot of precautions. I won’t be the only one to have figured out that you’re likely to go there. There will very likely be Death Eaters stationed around the village specifically waiting for you to turn up.”

“You really think so? Seems like a bit of a waste of their time just hanging out waiting for me in a place I may or may not go.”

“Well they wouldn’t send the important people, just the ones they can afford to offload for a while. But they’ve got no idea where we are so posting people out in places you’re likely to go is really the best bet they have.”

Harry nodded, his head falling back down to rest just below Draco’s collar bone. He really was far too comfortable.

“I just don’t know what else to do. I’m stuck for ideas and I’m hoping going there will jog something for me.” Harry mumbled, fighting against the incessantly negative side of himself that reminded him how futile this might all be.

“We can still go” Draco said, “I just want us to be prepared, to be as careful as your Gryffindor self is capable of being. But I agree with you, we might find something and the chance at maybe finding something is better than what we’ve had so far so I say we go for it.”

Harry perked up after that and the two go to to planning. 

It was later that same evening that Harry and Draco disapparated into Godric’s Hollow. Without the constant arguments that had been plaguing the campsite, making plans and decisions was considerably easier. 

The snow fell softly on the little village and Draco immediately understood it appeal to the young parents James and Lily Potter. It had, even within the first moments of arrival, a very inviting and cozy quality. It was the same quality that Draco had always yearned for growing up in the large and often empty manor. Having grown up around a similar level of wealth Draco wondered if James Potter had felt the same way. 

Under the invisibility cloak Draco and Harry moved slowly to ensure their ankles weren’t seen, though they were disillusioned under the cloak as well, but Draco had insisted on the maximum possible level of precaution. Harry walked very slowly though as he tried to age in as much of the village as possible, so Draco had no trouble keeping up. Keeping an eye out Draco didn’t see anyone else in the town, yet alone anyone who looked like a potential Death Eater watch dog- but he refused to let his guard down, his eyes continued to scan back and forth as they walked.

Harry knew his parents had lived here, though he wondered what they had though moving to the secluded area. Were they only here while in hiding, planning to move elsewhere if the danger ever passed? Or had they hoped this would be the village Harry grew up in? Would he have played in the park and got to know the other children in the village as he passed his childhood years? Might he have grown up alongside a younger sibling? There was something more painful than he had ever expected about finally being confronted with those questions.

He walked without really having a plan of where to go, and eventually, as if guided by fate itself, he came to the gate of the little cemetery. 

Together he and Draco entered quietly, and Harry was grateful that Draco didn’t attempt to talk to him about going, in, it likely would have brought him to tears- but he did squeeze his hand tightly in a show of silent support. 

Finding James and Lily’s graves was easier than Harry had expected and the sight of them hit him all at once.

The headstones were fine, one could hardly differentiate one from the other, but the short time between the birthdates and death dates was striking in a village full of wizards who regularly lived into their hundreds. Harry noted with a pang that he had never known his parents birthdays. They were only a few years older than he was now. 

They would have only been in their mid thirties, too young to die even now, had they have lived. 

Harry had always felt his parents absence, he was never anything less than acutely aware of his orphan status, but somehow, standing before his parents graves, he felt their loss so much more painfully than he ever had before. He wondered if they would have been proud of him, he wondered how similar they were, what would they think of him being caught up in the war as he was, what about his relationship with Draco? The questions circled relentlessly in his head as he stared down at the thick slab of granite. 

Draco too, found the graves of Harry’s parents to be a source of immediate introspection. Here lay two war heroes, who had died in defence of their values. Draco had never had role models like that in his life. James Potter had come from one of the longest living lines of Purebloods, he could have so easily sat the war out and safely remained neutral. He would have grown up with every privilege of an unreasonably wealthy Pureblood child. He would have wanted for nothing as he grew up, and yet, somehow, he had found it in him to fight for what was right. To fight for what he believed in regardless of the consequences to himself. He did the most dangerous thing he could have done as a Pureblood heir during Voldemort’s reign of terror- he had married a muggle born girl. Worse yet, he had a baby with her - effectively ending a line of Pure magical blood that had extended to the time of Merlin. 

Lily Evans must have been a truly amazing woman. 

Of course, Draco had already assumed as much, given how highly he thought of her son. 

He wondered what they would have thought of Draco’s relationship with Harry. Would they have liked him? Might they have encouraged Harry not to involve himself with the likes of a Malfoy, the same way Granger and Weasley had? Or might James Potter have seen in him the same thing he had seen in Sirius Black, another member of a dark and twisted old family trying to turn things around? He would never know it he silently hoped for the latter. 

All he could do was honour their memories by protecting the person they had given their lives for as best he could. Squeezing Harry’s hand tighter Draco sent up a promise to James and Lily, wherever they were, vowing to do his best to keep Harry safe, and more importantly, to bring some kind of happiness to his difficult life. 

With a flourished wave of his wand Draco conjured a bouquet of elegant white lilies to lay on their grave, a simple sign of respect to a couple who had unwittingly given him so much. 

At the sight of the flowers Harry’s eyes flooded with tears, he slipped his arms wordlessly around Draco’s waist and buried his face in his chest. Draco’s arms wrapped around Harry in turn, crushing him almost uncomfortably close as they weathered the difficult moment together. 

They left the graveyard not long after, unable to stay in the cold and sadness. 

Due to the size of the village, it didn’t take long for the pair to stumble accross one of the defining features of Godric’s Hollow, the statue of Lily, James, and the baby Harry. In the statue, the little family stood frozen in time, the horrors that befell them not yet known to them as they stood proudly in the square. 

The statue led them to the house. 

After pausing briefly to read the inscriptions carved into the sign post of the house, and taking a moment to be humbled by the words of encouragement and support left by hundreds of unknown supporters - Harry swallowed heavily. He wanted desperately to see the inside of his parent’s house. His first home. But of course, he was only too aware of the fact that it was also the place where everything wonderful and safe that his life could have had was torn from him. 

The house was a painful reminder of everything that he had had, and everything he had taken away from him. 

It was a lot.

Fortunately he didn’t seem to even need to tell Draco what he was thinking, Draco seemed to know instinctively what Harry needed. Taking control of the situation he pushed through the door of the house, pulling Harry along by the hand. 

They made their way through the house slowly, walking through it was like stepping into a time capsule. Though Grimmauld Place was old and evidently still decorated for the tastes of its time, it showed its age in the general wear and tear it carried. The Potter’s house was pristine, decorated exactly as it had been on the night the Potter’s passed away. It was as though they had walked right back into 1981.

Until they reached the damaged part of the house.

The killing curse famously did tremendous damage to living people, that much Draco had known for certain. But it never occured to him how dangerous it could be to the surrounding area when the curse is not fired correctly. The whole side of the house where Lily Potter had once defended her baby from certain death was gone. 

There was a hallway, and a master bedroom, and then… nothing. They were back facing the nights sky. Though part of Draco was nervous that he wouldn’t see Harry’s old bedroom, there was a substantial part of him that felt undeniably relieved. He didn’t know how Harry would handle seeing the exact place his mother died, and the night was wearing hard enough on their emotions. It would be too much for either of them to lay too much more on.

Unbeknownst to Harry, as they had moved through the house Draco was slipping little bits and pieces into his pockets, knowing that Harry would want mementos of some kind to remember his family and was most likely too emotional to think of taking some things with him. He had picked up a spare pair of James’ glasses, a bottle of Lily’s perfume, some photos he found displayed on walls and mantlepieces (most of which contained pictures of people Draco didn’t recognise, and a few which he expected were Harry’s muggle relatives on his mother’s side, judging from the way some of the pictures didn’t move) and a few other little pieces. None of which would have meant anything to anyone else, but he hoped Harry would appreciate. 

Their most valuable possessions of course, would be in their vault at Gringotts, but Harry was the type to prefer something personal to something flashy. All the gold in the world wasn’t worth something that would make him feel like he got to know his parents a little bit better. 

Draco hoped he would appreciate the gesture. 

Harry was completely overwhelmed searching the house, and was constantly pulling Draco closer to himself and holding onto him more tightly than necessary simply to reassure himself that he was there. He had always expected the sight of his parent’s house (he struggled to think of it as his own house) would be emotional, but it was bringing up so many things that he didn’t want to face. Not all at once. 

Blinking tears from his eyes he struggled to maintain his composure as he felt years of grief and heartache descend on him all at once. 

“Its okay Harry” Draco said holding him close, “I’ve got you.”

At those words the delicate grasp Harry had on his emotions broke ad his tears flowed freely as he gratefully leaned into Draco’s comfort.

“It isn’t fair” he murmured, knowing he sounded like a child but also feeling relieved that he finally had someone he felt safe enough to sound like a child around. Whenever he complained about how unfair his life was to Hermione she would tell him that life wasn’t fair for anyone- she did so gently but nevertheless the effect was meant to just shut him up. Ron led get into a game of oneupmanship, arguing that his life too was unfair. Around the Order he couldn’t say anything, either Mrs. Weasley would use it as ammunition to prove he was too young to be involved at all and clearly needed to be wrapped in bubble wrap or others might begin to worry that he wasn’t up for the job. 

Draco just kissed his forehead sweetly and said, “I know it isn’t love, and I’m so sorry.”

It was only a little thing, but those words unlocked a new level of love for Draco Malfoy, despite everything he had once believed about him, and that Ron and Hermione still believed about him, hell, despite the fact that Draco himself would deny it- Draco was a sweetheart. 

Harry held on tighter, taking a moment to be deeply grateful that despite everything he had lost, he had managed to find Draco. He lifted up on his toes to close their slight height difference and kissed him. 

The pair had shared all kinds of different kisses in the few days since their first. They both loved hot, passionate and frenzied kissing where they both got completely lost in each other. But they also found a liking for slow, sweet and sensual kissing that melted their very souls. 

This was a new type. 

It wasn’t hot or sensual, it was comforting, in a way that Harry hadn’t known kisses could be. Draco was still holding Harry protectively close to himself, and had brought a hand up to cup around his jaw, cradling his face as he gently caressed Harry’s lips with his own. Somehow Harry found himself drawing strength from Draco and tried to do the same for him (not knowing of course that Draco always felt emboldened by Harry’s kisses). 

It was only a short while later that they pulled apart and Harry drew himself back up to his full height and nodded, ready to leave the house again and continue their search through Godric’s Hollow. 

They pulled the invisibility cloak firmly back around themselves and stepped out into the cold night. 

Waiting out by the gate was an old woman, waiting for the boys whose footsteps had been magically erased from the snow, who were hidden under an invisibility cloak and disillusionment spell, the boys who had taken every precaution not to been seen. She looked Harry dead in the eyes and said “hello”.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this chapter is going up a little bit late! I think this is the first time in 36 weeks I've uploaded late so I hope you'll forgive me!   
> Enjoy   
> xx

The old woman didn’t look immediately threatening, which fortunately was something that put Draco on alert.

If she had seen them, under as much enchantment as they had to cloak themselves, she was more magically powerful than anyone else he knew. If she was so powerful then her meek appearence of a tiny old lady who could be knocked over by a stiff breeze was clearly false, designed to put them at ease. He wouldn’t let that work.

Harry it seemed, ever the hero, was less suspicious and shockingly seemed to even be curious about the woman’s intentions. Curious. As if anything good ever came from random old women approaching your still very invisible self in the middle of the night in the dead of winter. Draco wanted so badly to roll his eyes at Harry, but instead stayed still, wand clutched tightly in his hand, waiting for the moment he may need to act.

“Yes I am,” Harry said, out of nowhere, “do you want us to follow you?”

Draco’s eyes widened as Harry actually made a move to follow the woman, hissing he pulled Harry’s ear close to himself as he furiously whispered “What are you doing?”

“Its okay, she knows who we are, she has a message from Dumbledore”

“And how do you know that?”

Harry’s brows knitted in confusion, “because she just said so… weren’t you listening?”

All Draco had heard was the hiss and whistle of the wind around them, certainly no words had come from the old woman, and she had her hood pulled too closely around her face for him to have seen her lips moving if she had been speaking.

“Harry, I didn’t hear her say anything.”

“Its fine” Harry insisted, “she’s old and talks quietly maybe you just didn’t hear her. Come on, she wants us to go with her.”

The old woman had walked a few paces away from them and was waiting for them to join her, though she didn’t move or give any outward sign of what she was thinking, Draco could almost feel her impatience in the air around him.

“I am not going with that woman Harry. Something really isn’t right here.”

“Draco come on, I know you’re nervous but we need answers, if she’s the way we might get some answers then we are going to have to take the risk. I know its sketchy but if we don’t figure some of this out soon, we’re going to keep drawing this whole war out for Merlin knows how long. We have to take some risks if we want to end this. If you’re too uncomfortable then you can wait here and I’ll go with her, I won’t ask you to come with me if you’re too scared.”

“Damn it Harry” Draco snapped, “thats not whats going on here and you know it. I’m asking you to trust me. Please. Something isn’t right here.”

Noticing the near panic in Draco’s eyes Harry took a moment to pause.

His frustration with their lack of progress was eating him alive, as ever day passed and more and more people were being harmed by the war and were living in constant paranoia he felt the weight of failure more heavily. It was growing increasingly difficult for him to think about anything other that their mission and he was so relieved when the woman had said she was there to deliver a message from Dumbledore. He so badly wanted to her to give him the answer that Draco was right, he was being reckless.

He swallowed, humbled by the error he had very nearly made. He pulled Draco closer to him and ran his thumb gently along his jaw as he cupped his face. Draco was so good for him, he was unafraid to call him out, and willing to challenge him. He had good judgement and Harry should have known as soon as Draco raised a concern that this was a bad idea. He took a brief moment to be exceptionally grateful for the blond man beside him before speaking.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. This is crazy.”

Draco exhaled in relief and gestured to the old woman, still waiting for them at the end of the street. “So what do you want to do?”

In that moment, Harry understood the dynamic of their relationship in an instant nutshell.

Draco wasn’t a fighter, he didn’t see himself as a soldier marching in to take orders and complete a mission. He had his beliefs and values, sure. But he was there for Harry.

He was happy for Harry to be in control, to take charge of the mission because he knew it was ultimately going to come down to Harry’s responsibility, however unfair he found that to be. So he fell back into the supporting role. But he saw his supporting role as including the right to intervene in the few instances where he felt Harry’s judgement was compromised.

Had Harry have forced the issue, he would have followed and he would have protected Harry to the best of his ability whatever came next, but he would make his objection clear in this situation because he felt it was worth it to keep Harry safe.

Harry’s primary objective was winning the war and seeing Voldemort defeated. Draco’s primary objective was to keep Harry safe.

It was heartwarming to realise so clearly just how much support he had on his side. Harry had been fortunate to have some amazingly close friends, and he had always marvelled at how well his life had turned around from his life as the sad orphan boy who was bullied and tormented for years by the people around him. He had spent years being so painfully alone that when he found friends he could count on he had thought that meant he was set.

Only now did he see how profoundly different the experience was when someone put him ahead of everyone else.

There was a lot of power in it and Harry hoped he did justice to the gift Draco gave him, and vowed silently to give the same in return.

“I’m not coming with you” Harry said out loud to the woman. “If you have something you want to say to me you can say it here.”

Draco deftly removed the invisibility cloak from around the pair of them and pocketed it. He didn’t know what was about to happen but he figured there was no point being under it anymore as she could clearly see them somehow, and if something did happen he didn’t want to run the risk of losing it or have it hinder their ability to move and fight back (should the need arise).

The woman must have said something because Harry turned to Draco with raised brows, asking him silently if he had heard her too. Draco shook his head and Harry translated “she’s insisting. Says its important.”

Draco scoffed, “if its so important she can say it where we are. Otherwise we’re leaving and we’ll just have to make do not knowing.”

The woman obviously heard Draco and began walking closer. Her movements jerky and broken as she dragged herself through the wind and snow. Draco was tracking her movements with a razor sharp focus, his eyes trained on her hands, ready in the event she reached for a wand.

It wasn’t a wand he needed to look out for though.

As she moved closer Harry braced himself, his senses moving up to high alert as he noticed her speed picking up, her movements losing their frailty but gaining an unnatural disjointedness. She moved like a puppet, each limb stepping in harsh jerks which would be extremely painful and uncomfortable to an ordinary person. It was like a puppeteer was simply pulling a puppet along, rather than taking the time to make the motions seem natural. As she neared even closer her hood slipped off.

Though Draco had known their was something off about the woman and though he had been sure there was no way the old crone was her natural state- he hadn’t expected the sight of her to be quite so ghastly.

Before them, for a brief moment, stood Bathilda Bagshot, celebrated magical historian and lifelong friend of Albus Dumbledore. Draco recognised her immediately from the backs of his old textbooks and his instincts flared with alarm. Balthida was very old, fast approaching a hundred and fifty years of age, but unless Draco was very much mistaken, she would never make it to that age. She had been dead a fair while.

Her skin was grey and sunken in, her eyes white and glazed completely over as they stared unblinking at the boys before her. Her mouth hung open in a horrible gaping silent scream as the muscles in her face had wasted away, no longer retaining the life needed to keep her mouth closed. Her hair had largely fallen out and she looked like she had been recently dug up from rotting in the ground.

Everything about her appearance made the boys recoil as Draco wildly thought they were under attack by an Infiri. Harry, who had only recently experienced an infiri attack, was of a similar impression.

However, fire wouldn’t be able to save them from Bathilda as she was, most terribly, not an infiri. She was something far worse.   
As she arrived in arms width of the boys, her mouth seemed to unhinge from its precarious dangle open and her body started to sag backwards. As if in slow motion, the head of a giant green python with menacing several inch long fangs erupted from the opening.

As the snake extended forward, the body of Bathilda Bagshot fell to the floor, her jaw ripped open by the sheer size of the snake and crumpled, as broken as it had clearly been before magic had intervened to so horrifically desecrate her body.

Their attention turned to the snake.

Draco, having lived in the horrific nightmare den that had been Malfoy Mannor for the summer between his fifth and sixth year recognised the snake immediately. The Dark Lord’s one and only right hand man, his snake Nagini.

Draco had seen Nagini almost daily in the weeks before and after he had been branded into the Dark Lord’s cult following, she prowled up and down the halls of the ancient home regularly as the Dark Lord enjoyed the way she intimidated the most noble of the Pureblood residents of the home. No matter how high up in the Ministry, no matter how old or pure their bloodline, they all cowered before the snake.

She was huge, so thick around her body that Draco doubted he could make his fingers meet if he wrapped them around her, her fangs were so big he wondered if she bit him would they pierce through the other side of his arm. Everything about her was scary and Draco felt his blood bound through his body heating up uncomfortably as every instinct he had begged him to run away.

But he couldn’t.

What he hadn’t known in his brief and horrifying acquaintance with the snake, was how fast she could move.

The snake struck, lunging her massive muscular body towards Harry at deadly speed and with precision accuracy. It was only the mixture of adrenaline and seeker reflexes that saved Harry from her piercing fangs.

Harry dove to the ground with barely a milisecond to spare, his body colliding heavily with the icy floor below him.

Unconcerned by her miss, Nagini turned again, coiling her long body ready to strike again.

Fortunately at this point Draco had recovered his bearings on the situation and shot a curse out his wand before she could strike.

Her body jerked as it absorbed the impact of the curse, though unfortunately it seemed to do little actually harm her. Instead, it made her angry, and she turned her attention on Draco, unleashing a menacing hiss at him. Harry shot his own curse her way and the two began taking turns firing whatever they could think of at the massive snake.

It quickly became clear to Draco that much like a dragon, Nagini’s skin was likely impervious to most forms of magic, as even their best spellwork seemed to do very little to damage her. Even a well aimed ‘Septumsempra’ seemed only to scratch the top layer of her scales. She remained in hot pursuit.

As she launched herself once again, this time at Draco, his attempt at sidestepping the attack caused him to lose his footing on the icy ground below him and fall to the ground.

In that moment he realised that Nagini was far smarter than he ever would have credited her with being. As he toppled to the ground she turned immediately to her primary target, striking at Harry as soon as he turned to help Draco up. The turn around was so fast Harry didn’t have time to defend himself against the attack.

Nagini’s fang pierced deeply into his thigh and Harry let out a painful cry that tore instantly at Draco’s heart. Not only did her fangs inject a massive dose of her poison, the strength of her jaw as it clamped down snapped Harry’s femur.

Nagini struck again, going for his arm and Draco, in a blind panic, started firing off spells as fast as his wand was able to. Every dark curse his father had taught him ‘just in case’ came flooding out of him as he threw out a string of magic he had once vowed never to even attempt. The sight of Harry passed out in the snow, the pool of his blood around him slowly growing as every heart beat counted down to the moment that Harry would be killed by the poison in his veins though was enough motivation for Draco to try anything.

Draco fired killing curses, curses designed for the most sadistic kinds of torture, he fired curses designed to flay people alive, to melt internal organs and anything else he could think of. He knew his capacity for dark magic was less that some of his more sadistic relatives, but he surprised even himself with how much he was able to produce.

Finally, as the snake continued to round on him striking to miss him far too closely (Draco knew if he was bitten both he and Harry would die that night, a fact that gave him more motivation to succeed than he would ever need) Draco made one last attempt to save himself, and more importantly, the man he loved. Focusing all his mental energy on as much magic as he had, Draco summoned Fiendfyre.

Fiendfyre was deadly, and famously difficult to control, even within a second of a single rope of flame coming from his wand Draco was sweating and struggling to keep the fire from roaring out and destroying the village. His entire body shook with the effort to keep it in line.

Fortunately for him, Fiendfyre is more controllable with people with a clearer grasp on their magical core, as most wizards and witches paid little mind to their magical core so long as it wasn’t malfunctioning, they didn’t notice it. Draco however, had been taught for as long as he could remember to take time out to meditate and familiarise himself with the way his own magic worked and operated. He had as firm a grasp on his magical essence as it was possible to have. He was determined that he could do this.

What also worked in Draco’s favour with Fiendfyre was that the fire sought out life to extinguish, such was its purpose. With Harry so deeply unconscious and so feebly clinging to life in his current state, the fire targeted the next best source of life in the vicinity- Nagini.

It wrapped fiercely around her and Draco nearly dropped his wand in surprise with the response it had. Fire melted things, set them alright and burned them, but Nagini, when wrapped in the flame, seemed to immediately turn to dust. The heavy ash let out a deafening wail as it filled the air, loudly crying out in pain as the last vestiges of life in the snake separated and spread in the winter wind, the pitch black of the ash contrasting most poignantly with the innocence of the snow falling around it.

In an instant it was as though neither snake nor flame had ever been, Draco had recalled the flame successfully though his body was crying out desperately to let go and surrender to the crushing weight of his fatigue. Channelling that amount of dark magic was extremely draining. But he couldn’t stop now.

Draco wasted no time grabbing Harry and apparating back to camp.

Harry’s skin was sickeningly cold though sweat poured off him and his head lolled to the side in his unconsciousness. Flying around the tent Draco grabbed his potion stash and grabbed his anti venom with trembling hands as his own vision swam in and out of focus.

His eyes were blurry with tears he was fighting back and he struggled to keep his nausea at bay as he unscrewed the cap off the potion and tilted Harry’s head back to pour it down his throat.

“Please Harry, please please be okay. I need you to wake up baby…” Draco pleaded, his heart feeling like it was going to stop as he let himself consider for a moment that he might have been too late.

It was far too long before Harry opened his eyes again.

He was in pain, of course he was, but Draco had healed his broken leg, had flooded him with as much pain relieving potion as he could administer and was waiting out the antivenom with tears pouring out of his eyes.

“Draco?” Harry asked, still groggy.

“Harry!” He said, pulling him into a weak hug, his strength nearly completely gone in the ordeal.

“Draco, you’re shaking, you look awful- what happened?”

Draco snorted, “I just saved your sorry life is what happened Potter, you could try sounding a little more grateful.”

With that Draco weakly got up, gently fed Harry another round of potions and lay down beside him.

He wrapped his arms firmly around Harry’s body which lay pressed against the length of his chest and buried his nose in the unruly mess of Harry’s hair. Once comfortable, and secure in the knowledge that Harry was okay, Draco allowed himself to drift off.

 

***

 

  
“Honestly Draco what could happen she’s just a harmless old lady?” Draco mocked the next day, once he was satisfied that Harry had recovered enough to be able to be told off a little, “I can’t believe you said that, I am going to remind you of that moment every time you don’t trust me on something like this again. Anytime you think you’re going to be fine I’ll be there to tell you, ‘what if this is like that other time when you thought everything would be fine and we ended up attacked by the Dark Lord’s actual fucking snake who nearly killed both of us’!”

Harry rolled his eyes, “I’m not denying it was a bad call, I know it was, but I’m starting to think I might be fine if the next one ends up being a massive snake as well, I seem to have good luck when it comes to giant monster snakes.”

“Are you referring to your luck with Slytherins?” Draco asked, cocking an eyebrow, “because though I’m not denying your appeal to one specific Snake, I really hope you’re not going out of your way to improve your batting average there because I’ll be honest, I think Nagini was taken, in exactly as gross a way as that sounds.”

“No you weirdo! Though.. I guess you count as a Snake I’ve done quite well with. I mean we survived being attacked by Nagini, but I was also bitten by a basalisk in second year and I managed to live to tell the tale. Maybe it has something to do with being a Parslemouth, I have a higher rate of survival with lethal snakes than most people.”

“I’m sorry,” Draco said, slowly lowering his cup of tea, “don’t you dare pretend for even a moment that you managed to survive that attack for any reason other than your boyfriend being fucking incredible. And are you also choosing right now to me you were bitten by a basalisk? A basalisk, the fuck you size giant snake that kills anyone who sees it? And you’re still alive.”

“Yes” Harry nodded, “though I’ll admit that the basalisk I got bitten with had just been blinded so I suppose I got lucky because I could look at it without bursting into a pile of dust or whatever is meant to happen.”

“Oh right, a blinded basalisk,” Draco said, his voice noticably a few octaves higher, “much easier, still a massive snake that is one of the most dangerous creatures in the world and has a poison so toxic it would literally destroy anything it came in contact with.”

Harry nodded again, “I mean the poison does hurt like a bitch, I won’t lie, but its easy enough to overcome if you have a phoenix handy.”

“Sure, as we all do.”

“Exactly” Harry said with a bright smile, happy to have lightened the mood somewhat.

“Harry Potter I swear to Merlin you are going to be the death of me.” Draco said with a fond roll of his eyes. 


	37. Chapter 37

In the days following Draco enjoyed himself thoroughly playing nurse to a highly bewildered Harry Potter. Of course, Harry knew better than anyone else that Draco had a sweet and soft side, in fact, he might well have been the only person who knew it. But he had never quite been on the receiving end of the brunt of it and had never seen just how much of a mother hen Draco could be. 

Draco was keeping his pain potions regularly administered, as well as supplying him with cups of tea, with shoulder massages and long, lazy, indulgent kisses whenever the residual poison threatened his comfort. Harry kept trying to brush I’m off, insisting that the pain wasn’t that bad, and he’d experienced far worse, only to have Draco snap at him that ‘thats exactly why I need to look after you now.’

It was certainly not something Harry had ever experienced, such dutiful and loving care, but deep down he couldn’t deny that he loved it. 

He loved so much about Draco, and it seemed like there may be no end to the ew things he might discover to love about him. He had started with loving his sassy snarky side, and then slowly he had learned about his funny and witty side, after that it had been the raw and honest part of Draco that he had been privileged to meet, and now it seemed he was being introduced to the soft, tender side as well. Harry hoped he would keep getting to meet more parts of him. 

He had never known how wonderful some of the little caring things would be. He and Draco had never really had enough time together alone to experience them, and while they had been at Hogwarts they hadn’t been quick enough on the uptake to really get to spend time enjoying them. Harry discovered a hitherto unknown love for having his hair stroked, he had fallen asleep against Draco on more than one occcasion as Draco had gently petted his dark locks and held him close to his chest. 

That was another thing he had discovered a love for- cuddles. Harry and Draco were most unfortunately unable to sleep in the same bed at night due to one of them always being up on watch- but they were taking the time to have a long nap in the middle of the day (when Draco had done a full walk around to refresh as many security charms as possible before hand) and they had both found a love for wrapping their arms around each other, tangling their legs together and getting to fall asleep breathing each other in and enjoying the sensation of their favourite person in the world being beside them. 

It was one such afternoon, after a few hours of nap that Harry awoke feeling dizzy in a haze of his own bliss. He doubted he would ever get over how magnificent the feeling was of having Draco’s chest pressed against his back, feeling his warm breath against his the back of his neck, the way his hands wandered around his chest and up his sides in his sleep, the hard length of his erection pressing agains his lower back....

Wait. 

Harry’s eyes sprang open in silent alarm.

Oh Merlin. He had never felt that before. 

Draco, not noticing Harry’s anxiety, pulled him in closer, groaning as he ground his hips more firmly against Harry, he trailed a row of kisses up the column of Harry’s throat before murmuring a husky “Good morning handsome.”

Everything about it was amazing, and so much better than Harry would have ever dreamed of, but all he could focus on was the solid length grinding down against him.

To his credit, Draco noticed pretty quickly that Harry’s usual enthusiasm seemed to be missing. That was something he loved about Harry- the way he threw himself into their explorations with such passion and how quickly he reciprocated all of Draco’s advances. So the moment he felt Harry stiffen up and subtly try to pull away his concern was immediate.

“Everything okay?” He asked, pulling back on his kisses and retreating his hands. 

Harry’s face flushed lightly with an embarassed blush. He felt so stupid. Draco was amazingly hot and everything he wanted. He definitely knew that he wanted to do ... more with Draco but for some reason the reality of what ‘more’ might mean was slapping him right in the face- or more accurately, poking him right in the bum. 

Feigning a smile Harry tried to reign in his breathing and shake off the discomfort of feeling like his skin was suddenly too tight. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

Draco rolled further back, putting more distance between himself and Harry, he raised an eyebrow at him and said “Harry, you’ve never reacted to anything like that, I don’t think everything’s fine. Was that a bit too much for you?”

“No, no I want to do that kind of stuff with you...” Harry said, struggling to explain.

Draco smiled, despite the situation Harry’s reassurance did make him feel a bit better, “you can want to do that stuff one day but not right now you know? It isn’t a zero sum game here love.”

“But.. you want to...”

“Yeah I want to, but I only want to if you want to as well. If you’re not ready thats fine, we can put the breaks on a little bit and wait. I’m not in any hurry. I’m sorry for just going ahead with that- I really should have talked to you about it first. But Harry, I want to be with you, for as long as you’ll let me, so as far as I’m concerned we have as long as we want to explore that side of things. We aren’t in any hurry.”

Harry sighed, “we might not have all that much time though- theres a war going on.”

Draco pulled Harry’s chin up to draw his eyes up to look at his own, very seriously he said “Harry. There is a chance we might not make it out of this war- I won’t deny that. But there is no way in hell I’m letting you rush into anything you aren’t comfortable with because of it. The war has taken so much away from so many people already and I will be damned if it takes away your choices in our relationship. No matter what happens or doesn’t happen I will always be happy with whatever we got. Even if all we ever do is kiss its so much more than I ever thought I would get with you and I will be so far beyond grateful for all of it.”

Harry surged forward, kissing Draco firmly once again. This was good. He knew what to expect with this. 

Gently, Harry probed his tongue along the seam of Draco’s lips, morning in delight when Draco willingly parted them for him and met his tongue with his own. He lost himself in the sensation for a while, enjoying the feeling of Draco’s lips, teeth, tongue and breath.

When he pulled away Harry smiled shyly at him, “Thank you Draco. I really wasn’t expecting to react that way and I guess maybe I’m just not ready yet... I just hope you don’t think this means I feel anything less about you... you’re... you’re everything to me. I have no idea what I would do without you.”

Draco smiled warmly, “I know beautiful. You’re everything to me too.”

In that moment Harry fell a little bit more in love with the warm and fuzzy side of Draco Malfoy. 

Harry sighed, burrowing his face back into the crook of Draco’s neck, he believed his reassurances but couldn’t help the twinge of guilt that he still felt. The truth was he had never experienced nothing like this, and hadn’t grown up in an environment that made him feel like any of this sort of thing was okay. He ddin’t even really have any romantic relationships he could model off. He was kind of lost when it came to how to navigate this kind of thing. 

The truth was he loved Draco. He had one for a while. And he couldn’t find a good reason as to why he hadn’t told him yet, only that some deep buried instinct in him told him to keep it quiet. But Draco deserved to know. How could he let their physical relationship develop any further if he wasn’t even able to talk to him about some things? Did that even matter? Was there a prescribed order he was meant to be doing all this in?

Harry didn’t know. 

Getting up Harry volunteered to go sit out on watch, knowing full well that at this point they were so covered by protective enchantments that their tent would alarm far before anyone came close enough to the tent for Harry to see. Draco seemed to understand though and he nodded his agreement, promising to be out soon with a cup of tea to keep Harry warm. 

He gave Harry some space for a little while, allowing him to get his thoughts in order before he approached him. The two boys sat in silence, though luckily not an awkward one that would have had Harry squirming in discomfort. 

It was only after an hour or so of they amicable silence that Draco spoke. 

“Harry, look over there” he pointed to the white glow in the distance.

Harry squinted, “what do you reckon that is?” He asked.

Draco shrugged but stood up as they watched the light approach. 

It moved slowly, though Draco didn’t allow that to owner his guard. As it grew closer it began to take shape... a doe?

“Its a patronus” Harry said, stepping forward.

Draco grabbed his arm, “what are you doing?”

“Going to see what it wants” Harry said, as if that was a perfectly reasonable thing to do when one sees an anonymous patronus in the woods.

“I don’t think you are.”

“Its a patronus.” Harry said, with a roll of his eyes “whats it going to do?”

“Do I seriously need to remind you about the massive fuck you snake from just a few days ago? Is your memory of dangerous situations really so short?”

Harry smiled “Well it kind of has to be. Patronuses are mad with pure, good thoughts, someone who wanted to harm you wouldn’t have good thoughts.”

“No, its not good thoughts its happy thoughts. There is a big difference. A maniacal killer might feel happy enough by the though of us stepping out of our ridiculously protected tent in order to murder us entirely to death to produce a huge patronus. I’m sure if the Dark Lord can summon a patronus it is done by thinking of some truly twisted shit.” Draco said, very matter of factly.

“Well I trust it” Harry argued, trying once again to step forward

“If this thing kills us Harry I swear to Merlin I will haunt you until the end of time, I’ll be the most obnoxious ghost you’ve ever seen- I’ll make Moaning Myrtle look shy and standoffish by comparison.”

“If it kills both of us who are you going to haunt? I’ll be dead too.”

“Well then I’ll follow you to the afterlife and nag the hell out of you the whole time we’re there.”

“As long as we’re together baby thats good enough for me” Harry winked cheekily.

With a groan of frustration Draco conceded and followed Harry out of the safety of their enchanted tent, threading his rings with Harry’s to make himself feel just a little bit safer. 

The doe turned and walked away, occasionally turning her long neck to look back and make sure they were following her. The first time she had done it Draco retreated back a couple of paces, “oh come on Harry, this is so creepy and it really will be the most pathetic way to die. I can just picture my tombstone now, ‘here lies Draco Malfoy, he died following a suspicious shiny thing in the woods. What a dickhead’.”

“What a dickhead? Such a classy way with words you posh types have on your graves. Whatever happened to a classic ‘rest in peace’?”

“You don’t get to Rest In Peace if you died doing something this stupid.”

“How far do you reckon its leading us?” Harry asked curiously as they kept walking.

“Well I suppose that depends on how far away the Death Eaters Are didn’t out in waiting for the victims to be lured to them.”

“You know, you can go back if you want to.”

“No, I’ll shut up.”

The doe eventually stopped by the edge of a pond, where she looked down into the icy depths, showing the boys the prize at the bottom. The Sword of Gryffindor.

“Draco!” Harry said excitedly, remembering Hermione’s frequent reminders that the sword might be the best way to kill the locket, due to the fact that it would have absorbed the Basalisk venom from second year. “The sword! We can use the sword on the locket!”

“Its too simple” Draco argued, “its got to be a trap.”

“Maybe there’s just someone who wants to help us.”

“Harry. How did they know where we were? And if they want to help us, why woudn’t they approach?”

“We need that sword.” Harry argued, “you stay up here and watch, be ready to fight off anything that comes for us and I’ll dive down and get it.”

“Why am I the one who has to fight people off?”

“You can dive down if you prefer” Harry offered, knowing Draco would never agree.

“No, no, you dive down, I’ll be here with a drying and warming charm when you get back... thats fine...” He clapped his hands together once, decisively “alright Potter, get your kit off”

Harry’s face flushed red, “could you... could you maybe turn around?”

Draco laughed “honestly Harry we’re about to be murdered int he weirdest possible way anyone has ever heard of and you’re denying me the chance to get a peek of the body I’ve been lusting after since I was fourteen. Real heroic of you.” 

He turned around anyway.

“Alright” Harry announced, taking a deep breath “Okay I’m going to jump in...” He was already shivering in the frigid winter air. 

Draco laughed as he could almost hear Harry mentally trying to psych himself up to plunge into the icy water, “honestly Potter, you couldn’t make it more obvious that you were raised by muggles?”

Without waiting for Harry to ask for it he cast a series of warming charms all over Harry and pulled him close to gently kiss his forehead, being very careful out o look down at Harry’s body below his eye line, “signal me if anything happens down there, but I’ll be keeping watch from up here. Don’t be long.”

Harry nearly swooned. 

With the warming charm in place the swim in the pond was actually quite relaxing. It was a quick swim to the bottom as the pond wasn’t too deep, and then a slight struggle as he pushed off from the floor of the pond and pulled the heavy sword up to the surface. 

As promised, Draco was there waiting with his wand held aloft, dutifully eyeing the surrounding area for any incoming threats. He dried Harry off with a quick flick of his wand when he heard the water break. 

As they headed black to the tent, sword in hand, Harry asked “so, do you reckon its real?”

Draco considered for a moment, “I suppose there’s one way to find out”

So when he approached the tent he went in and grabbed the locket out of its hiding place in a false wall in Granger’s beaded bag, holding it away from his body he brought it out to where Harry was waiting. 

“I think you should do it” Harry said, holding the sword out to Draco.

“You want me to try and stab a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul?” 

“Yep”

“Why?”

“Because honestly I think you deserve to. I think you’ve been more involve in this mission than anyone else and if I have to kill the bastard you may as well get a go at a piece of his soul. Besides, if Dumbledore was right, which I’m willing to bet he was, then I already killed one when I stabbed the diary with that basalisk fang back in second year. So really its just your turn.”

“Right” Draco said faintly, “my turn to stab a piece of the soul of the most evil wizard of our time. Only fair really...” His voice had gone squeeky and high pitch as the weight of what he was being offered to do settled on him. 

“If you’re uncomfortable then don’t worry about it I can do it.”

“No, no I’ll do it... its just... wow this is huge isn’t it.” 

With a few deep breaths Draco nodded his head, raising the sword height in the air, right before the downswing Harry whispered “open” to the locket in a quick parsletongue.

What happened next neither of them could have expected. 

In a furious scream the locket burst open and a raging cloud of ack smoke filled the air around them. A disembodied voice spoke menacingly through the clouds billowing and swirling around them. 

“Draco Malfoy, you betrayed your family, your entire ancestry to follow a boy for whom you will never be more than an experiment. You have doomed your parents to death for your own selfishness and cowardice and you fancy yourself to be on the side of light. I know you Draco Malfoy. You are weak, you have always been weak, both in will and in mind, you come from a long line of wizards who bowed to power and you will never be any more than that yourself. You would follow Harry to the ends of the earth, too afraid to tell him how desperately you love him, too fearful of frightening him away- because who wouldn’t be frightened by the horror of getting love from someone like you. You are everything his friends think you are and one day he’ll see it too. He will see you as the spineless, evil and power hungry man you really are and he will leave you. You’ll have nowhere to go, your family will be long dead, and even if they weren’t, why would they take back a blood traitor like you?”

Harry’s heart broke with every word the voice spoke, but it completely shattered when he saw the look on Draco’s face. His eyes were glassy and his face drained of what little colour it had in it. His normally impeccable posture seemed to fold in on itself as his shoulders hunched and he took a step back, as if the words he was hearing were physically hurting him. 

“Don’t listen to it Draco!” Harry shouted, desperately trying to break the hold the voice had over his beautiful boyfriend “none of it is true Draco its trying to save itself! Just stab it!” 

Draco’s eyes rose and met Harry’s brilliant green ones. He must have seen something he needed to in them because in the space of a heartbeat he stepped forward and plunged the sword as sharply into the body of the locket as it would go. 

The scream that ripped from the locket was possibly the loudest sound Harry had ever heard and his ears continued to ring for hours after the event. The locket dissolved into a cloud of black ash which seemed to melt away any sign that the locket had ever existed. 

Wasting no time Harry sprang forward and wrapped his arms firmly around Draco’s neck, pulling him down so he could press reassuring kisses along his cheek, forehead and in his hair. 

Frantically Harry kept whispering “it wasn’t true, none of it was true” between kisses, his hands trying to sooth Draco’s back as his body trembled lightly from the ordeal. 

“You’re doing the next one” Draco mumbled, “its only fair”

Harry smiled with relief, “for you baby, anything. I’m just so glad you’re okay.”

Draco shuddered but plastered on a bright, false smile, “oh I’m fine, never liked the scaly bastard anyway, who cares what he said”

Once they were safely back in their tent Draco spoke again “there was something about the way it... died that has me thinking...”

“About what?”

“Well, when I got Nagini with that fire... she kind of shrivelled up into ash in the same way...”

“Can a snake even be a Horcrux though?”

“Anything can be... so we would have the diary, which proved his relationship with Salazar Slytherin, the ring from his grandfather, the cup from hufflepuff, the something from Ravenclaw, the locket from Slytherin, we assume he isn’t having a Gryffindor themed one, could the snake be the final one? Another Slytherin themed thing? And then the one in him makes seven?’

“It could be... it would explain why I could see into Nagini’s mind when she attacked Mr Weasley... if I have a connection with Voldemort and he had a piece of his soul inside the snake then maybe thats it! Draco! I think we might be two more down!!” Harry shouted with excitement, springing up to pull Draco back against him.

He didn’t get the chance though, as in the next moment there were cracks sounding all around them and a voice shouted “come out with your wands away, we have you surrounded and we will begin firing curses if you do not cooperate.”


	38. Chapter 38

The sounds of the voices around them put Harry on immediate high alert. They had even found, they had been so careful for so long he couldn’t understand- how had they found them?

 

His eyes darted frantically around searching desperately for a solution. He didn’t dare step outside to see if they were in fact completely surrounded, he didn’t trust anymore that their protective spells would hold up either. He was at a complete loss and he turned to Draco, his eyes wide with fear and the vein hope that maybe he had a plan.

 

He did not.

 

Draco was internal berating himself, the protective enchantments were his responsibility, he had assured Harry he would be able to protect them and he had failed. Now who knew what was going to happen to them?

 

It was completely unbelievable that only moments ago they had been so excited and full of joy and hope. How I king typical that their optimism had to be so quickly squashed down again.

 

“Harry” Draco said, his voice trembling slightly with fear, “I don’t think they know whose in here, they might not know there are two of us. You should stay here and I’ll go out there.”

 

“Don’t be stupid Draco I’m not leaving you to face them alone, you heard them, they hardly sound like friendly people.”

 

“Exactly. They are probably dangerous guys, and they might be affiliated with the Death Eaters, what do you think they’ll do if they find you?”

 

“Not too much worse than what they’d do if they found you, you’re wanted too remember?” Harry argued.

 

“I know I am, but honestly Harry it will be so much worse if they find you. You need to be okay. If I go, they’ll probably know who I am, they’ll be excited enough by the reward they’ll get for turning me in tat they won’t even look for you!”

 

“Of course they’ll look for me, you’re known to be travelling with me.” Harry snapped, “even if they didn’t though there’s no chance in hell I’d just hand you over so I could get away- do you seriously think I would agree to that?”

 

“I know you don’t Nat to, but you have a mission to complete and at the end of the day I’m not relevant tot hat mission. I know you don’t agree with it but you can’t deny that you are the most important person in this mission.” Draco pleaded, his hands cupping Harry’s stubble rouged jaw.

 

“No way.” Harry shook his head, “theres no way. You followed me to Godric’s Hollow, you followed me to get the sword, you’ve been following me for ages before that and through a bunch of dangerous stuff that you didn’t need to deal with. I am going to do the same thing for you and theres nothing you can do about it- you’re not the boss of me.”

 

Harry’s head snapped up when he heard spells beginning to be fired at the perimeter of their tent. Fortunately the spells didn’t seem to pass through as the tent sustained no damage despite the loud barrage of curses echoing around them. Draco and Harry’s eyes met and they seemed to resort to communicating silently between themselves. Both their eyes betrayed their fear instantly and Harry struggled against his immediate instinct to sort out throwing his own curses and hoping for the best- Even he found it a bit too ‘Gryiffindorish’ a response, maybe he’d been spending too much time with Draco.

 

Luckily Harry had a lifetime of experience thinking on his feet, the one thing he prided himself on being particularly good at was being able to make snap decisions in a crisis, and if this didn’t count as a crisis then he honestly didn’t know what would.

 

“Draco,” He whispered, pulling him in close “do you still have any of those polyjuice potions in your stores?”

 

“We used most of it when you lot when to the Ministry, but there is still some left over… maybe enough for a half dose each?”

 

Harry hummed “that will have to do… Grab it! Do we have any of those hairs from the muggles we used when we were doing surveillance?”

 

“Yes!”

 

Draco rushed back over, dividing the potion between the two of them and elegantly dropping the hairs of the anonymous muggles into the potion.

 

Before they could drink they heard the voice from outside, louder this time and clearly getting angry with their evasiveness. “We have the full authority of the ministry behind us and if you continue to refuse to cooperate we will be forced to contact the aurors and get a team of curse breakers in here. We will get you out of your little hidey hole one way or another. Cooperate now and your punishment just might be survivable.”

 

“Harry… if this doesn’t work” He began, gesturing to the potion held in his shaking hands.

 

“It will work. It has to work.”

 

“Come on, be realistic, this will buy us a bit of time at most, but this is pretty dire. I think this could even be the end of the run…”

 

“No” Harry insisted, shaking his head, “No, I’m not losing you. I can’t.”

 

“I know Harry, I can’t lose you either. So if this all goes tits up I just need you to know,” Draco took a deep breath and stepped closer, his hand cupping Harry’s jaw and eyes staring deeply into Harry’s “I love you Harry.”

 

Harry surged forward, rising up onto his toes to press his lips urgently against Draco’s, they kissed hungrily, both of them fearful this could be their last chance. Lips, tongues and teeth clashed together as they struggled to pull each other impossibly closer. Harry had tears in his eyes and Draco was shaking like a leaf, but neither of them paid it any mind.

 

“I love you too Draco” Harry confessed, still holding Draco tight against him, “I promise I’ll get us out of whatever happens next”

 

“You can’t promise that Harry, we have no idea what we’ll be walking into.”

 

“I don’t care. We are going to get out of it whatever it is.”

 

Draco smiled sadly, his brave soldier, so desperate to make everything okay. But Draco had grown up around people like this, he knew these were kill first and ask questions later types. Not always full Death Eaters, but the hired thugs, sometimes they were even worse than the loyalists. They didn’t have a cause they thought they were standing up for, they didn’t care if they were right so you couldn’t even attempt to reason with them. They were recruited for their savagery, usually from recent Azkaban releases or even kids who were expelled for horrific histories of bullying. These were people who were good at only one thing, inflicting harm on others, and the Death Eaters paid them good money to indulge in it indiscriminately.

 

Draco didn’t see this ending well at all.

 

But he wouldn’t crush the seed of hope in Harry- he didn’t see how they could get themselves out of this situation but he knew better than to bet against Harry. His ability to hope was probably his best quality. If he believed he could get them out then they still hadn’t reached the end of the line.

 

Without saying a word Draco downed his polyjuice potion, flinching at the bitter taste. Harry copied him, his free hand squeezing Draco’s tightly.

 

The couple felt their skin bubble as it morphed into their stolen appearances. Draco watched as Harry’s beautiful green eyes disappeared, replaced with a flat, generic blue, not objectionable by any means, but the difference broke Draco’s heart, he hoped with every fibre of his being that he hadn’t just seen Harry’s eyes for the last time.

 

“Lets do this” Draco murmmered, kissing Harry gently on the forehead.

 

Harry grit his teeth, his determination setting in stone as he exited the tent with Draco. Their hands were held up as they stepped out of the protective enchantment surrounding the tent. Every step deeper outside was like a heavy weight that settled more and more deeply in Harry’s stomach. But he repeated his mantra over and over again, “I’ll find a way out of this. We will be okay.”

 

The second they stepped out of the boundary line of Draco’s protections hands seized them roughly, the boys were pulled apart and their wands were immediately confiscated. Harry’s heart sank further, of course it made sense to confiscate their wands, he knew that, but it made their chance of escape that much slimmer and he could see the panic starting to take over in Draco’s now dark brown eyes.

 

“So here are the little bastards who thought they could say the Dark Lord’s name without consequence eh?” One of the ring leaders of the group sneered, he came right up close to Harry’s face, his awful smelling breath hitting Harry like a slap.

 

Harry said nothing, but continued struggling against his captors, knowing the more trouble he caused the less attention they would be able to put on Draco. For his obstinance, Harry received a quick and sharp punch to the gut which had him doubled over and wheezing, but which he was relieved to see resulted in one of Draco’s captors releasing his hold on him to go help keep Harry subdued.

 

Draco knew instantly what Harry was doing and wanted desperately to shout at him to stop being an idiot. But he didn’t know how to do that without drawing too much attention to them, and their relationship. If the thugs knew what Harry and Draco meant to each other things would get much worse for them very quickly.

 

“Alrigh’ boys, who are you then?”

 

Draco answered first, “Andrew Fairview” the name was completely pulled from thin air- Fairview was not an easily verifiable magical name, it might buy them some time while they try to figure out who he really is. 

 

“Andy!” The man laughed, “You look about ‘ogwarts age, what you doin’ out in the middle of a forest under some of the tightest security any of us ‘ave ever seen? Somethin’s not quite adding up ‘ere is it?”

 

Draco suppressed a groan, yes, he had chosen hairs from muggles who were approximately the same age and build as they were. The more radical the difference in height the more awkward the person who took the potion would be, needing time to adjust to how to move with longer limbs. He had decided not to go with an adult’s hair because of the risk of adults having back problems or mobility issues, the younger the person they chose the more likely it would have been that the person was physically fit, they needed to be old enough to be able to enter and exit the Ministry for surveillance without detection, but not so old that it was more trouble than it was worth. Perhaps his choice hadn’t been the best one.

 

Maybe he’d doomed them.

 

“Took the year off” Draco tried, knowing the excuse was flimsy at best.

 

“Oh did ya? Thought you might get a gander at the great English forests and squirrel yourself away like a rat. You know what I think Andy? I think you might be one of them Mudbloods. I reckon you found out that you lot aren’t welcome round ‘ere anymore and you decided to take off- brought your little mate ‘ere with you?”

 

Mudblood. It was a word Draco used to use, and yet, hearing it from this grimy, spineless and sneering man made Draco flinch. They didn’t notice though, they had turned their attention on Harry who was thrashing angrily at the .

 

“And what about you then? Look a bit old for ‘ogwarts, could’a repeated a year though, he don’t look too bright. Unless it was your idea to bring boy toy over ‘ere on your romantic romp through the countryside.” The other goons snickered and wolf whistled and Harry’s jaw clenched tighter.

 

They were making something so wonderful, so happy and pure sound so awful and embarrassing. He loved Draco and there was nothing anyone could say to make him feel ashamed of it- yet alone someone like these guys whose opinion he didn't value for a moment. They reminded him of Dudley and his gang of friends in primary school. Harry already hadn’t liked these people but somehow their attitude turned his fear to anger and aggression. He struggled harder against the men holding him back and received another swift punch to the stomach.

 

“Lets just ‘and ‘em over, I’m not freezing my arse off in the middle of the fucking forest for these arseholes” one of the goons complained.

 

“Alright then,” agreed the ringleader of the group, “but you pair have annoyed the hell out of me, so I’m not taking you to the Ministry - the reward for a Mudblood caught in the wild is pretty good, but I think delivering you to the Dark Lord at Malfoy Manor will make you suffer more. They don’t have all them regulations and ‘umantiarian bullshit they got to be careful of. If I bring in enough of yous maybe they’ll let me join up, and frankly boys- I right like the idea of you lot getting whats comin’ to ya.” He laughed, genuinely thrilled by the fact that these boys who had posed such a nuisance to get to, who were being so annoying to him, were about to be tortured before probably being killed.

 

Who cared though right? They were no one. Of no consequence. And if he proved that he could dispose of nobodies without being bothered then he could take a place among the Death Eaters. He could be someone in his own right. The Death Eaters were slowly becoming the elites, there had been rich and powerful Death Eaters from the beginning but now everyone knew that Death Eaters found it easier to get jobs, were more likely to get promoted, they did better with women and they got so much more respect from the people around them- fear was a beautifully powerful motivator and anyone with half a brain wanted a part of it.

 

The gang of snatchers grabbed Harry and Draco by the arms and apparated as a group to the gates of the Manor.

 

Draco felt his blood run cold at the sight of his childhood home, Malfoy Manor had never been particularly welcoming or homey, not in the way most people thought of their childhood homes. In fact, Draco, even as a young child, had always been aware of the inhospitable and cold nature of the place he grew up. It was a home that screamed ‘you are not welcome here’ which is exactly the message generations of past Malfoys wanted to convey. Whether it be muggles or lower class wizards, the Malfoy family had always been instant that only those deemed worthy could floo directly into the home, everyone else had to take the long treck up the entryway and face down the imposing home. On the inside the Manor was slightly less daunting, though given that a more accurate word to describe the house would be ‘a castle’ it still lacked any sort of quality that could be described as ‘cozy’. Everything had been made dark stone and with high ceilings, so no one could ever possibly forget the power and the importance of the family the building housed, not even the family members themselves.

 

As Harry approached the home he couldn’t help but mentally compare it to all the other homes, wizarding and otherwise, that he had seen before. The Burrow was probably his second favourite wizarding dwelling in the world (with Hogwarts naturally taking first place) and it seemed that the Weasley children couldn’t have possibly had a more different environment to grow up in than Draco. Harry didn’t dare look at him but was desperate to know how he was feeling coming back. Not only was this his home, but it was overrun with Death Eaters, that he had betrayed, and his parents who he had led to believe he was dead, and possibly Voldemort, who would want them dead just as badly as anyone else there.

 

It wasn’t a great situation to find yourself in.

 

What was worse, was that the one tiny thing they had on their side, their anonymity, was quickly disappearing. Harry noticed Draco’s hair lightening and his figure becoming lighter and taller. He was turning back into himself. As too was Harry, if the rapid degeneration of his eyesight was anything to go by.

 

Within only a few more minutes they would be entirely back to themselves, and facing an entire room full of people looking for them and wanting them dead.

 

It was in fact, a truly shitful situation to find yourself in.

 

Possibly the most dire situation Harry had ever found himself in.

 

He repeated his mantra in his head a few more times with an added piece on the end, “I’ll find a way out of this. We will be okay. And if we can’t be, I’ll make sure at least Draco is okay.”


	39. Chapter 39

The snatchers didn’t seem to notice Harry and Draco’s appearances shifting, but by the time they reached the Manor’s doors, there was no way the Death Eaters inside wouldn’t recognise them. Especially given that not an insignificant portion of them were close blood relatives of Draco’s and Harry was the most wanted man in magical Britain. They were going to be pretty damn obvious.

 

Draco’s heart was hammering wildly inside his chest, his lungs struggling to take in any air as the panic rapidly descended on him. With every step he took his eyes darted frantically around the area, looking for anything that might either hurt them or offer them a way out, he knew the Manor like the back of his hand and he knew exactly how futile his search was, the entry walk into the Manor was specifically designed as an inroad, not an out one- even if they managed to break away from the snatchers somehow, they wouldn’t be able to just walk back out the gate. They literally had to go through the threshold of the house in order to be allowed to leave. And of course, waiting just within that threshold was an entire coven of Death Eaters.

 

Harry on the other hand was surprisingly calm. He kept his breathing well under control and focused all his attention on taking in as much of what was happening around him as possible. He didn’t know what they were in for, but he knew it wouldn’t be good. He was going to be ready. Silently he tried to show support to Draco, but they were being kept too far away from each other for him to easily catch his eye. Harry knew Draco was getting frantic, and though he didn’t blame him at all for that reaction, his unfortunate level fo experience in dangerous situations told him that their best bet would be to remain as calm and level headed as possible, he doubted even if he could tell Draco that that it would make any sort of difference.

 

By the time they reached the almost sarcastically large front doors of the home, Harry felt himself being able to exhale just a little bit. They were being pulled inside the Manor and yet his scar wasn’t burning. He normally couldn’t be anywhere near Voldemort before his forehead felt like it was about to explode, the lack of that feeling gave him a tiny morsel of hope- Voldemort might not be there yet.

 

When they finally arrived in the entry Hall of the Manor (Draco had grown up in a home with more than one Hall in it, Harry mused, they couldn’t possibly have had more starkly different childhoods). The sight before them was about as dire as Harry had feared, except for the absence of Voldemort himself, it seemed every notable Death Eater in his ranks were present and waiting. Including Corban Yaxely and Draco’s parents.

 

What a truly shit way to meet your boyfriends parents for the first time.

 

“Draco” Corban spat, the jagged scars across his face finally made his outside look as vicious as his inside. It was a horrifying sight.

 

The snatcher who had captured them finally looked at them with surprise, only just realising the change in their appearance. His smile grew wide and twisted, “ladies and gentlemen, I bring you two of the most wanted criminals in England. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Do with them what you will and I hope to be rewarded handsomely for finally procuring the boys you lot have been lookin’ for for months.”

 

Say what you will about the man, but he certainly was no coward.

 

Unbeknownst to Harry, as the Death Eaters began jeering and the boys were pushed down to their knees before the gathered group, Draco and his mother were communicating silently between one another.

 

Draco had been taught Legilimency and Occlumency by a woman who was perhaps the most skilled person at either in magical Britain, his mother.

 

Narcissa was such a talented Leglimens she could actually plant thoughts in the heads of others, a skill Draco had never quite been talented enough to master.

 

_Draco! What on earth are you doing here?_

 

 _Mother, I’m so sorry._ Draco replied, his eyes refusing to look over at her lest he betray their tentative cover, _I couldn’t go through with it, I ran away- I thought if I faked my own death they’d go easy on you and Father, I didn’t want you to suffer for my choice. I didn’t mean to hurt Corban, I swear, it was a spell Severus taught me and I didn’t know what it did but he was coming after me. I don’t know what he told you about it but I promise it didn’t happen like he said. I’ve been going with Harry, he’s… well he’s got a job to do, I can’t tell you much more than that…But now we’ve been captured… I’m so sorry Mum…_

 

 _Oh my darling boy_ came the soft, gentle voice of his mother in his head, Draco could have cried. Despite everything, he had missed his mother terribly. She wasn’t the same as all the other mothers, but then he hadn’t been much the same as all the other kids, he had always known she loved him, in her way and hearing her voice again threatened the very tentative grasp he had on his self control. _My love I am beyond grateful to see that you’re alive. I always knew but I have been very badly wanting to see that for myself. I am so sorry you’ve been captured and that you felt so trapped in the first place that this was your only option. I really have failed you Draco and I am so sorry…_

 

_No, mother don’t say that… I did everything on my own. I knew what I was getting myself into and I made my choices knowingly. Growing up with you gave me the confidence to be able to do that. Regardless of what happens I have no regrets._

 

 _Draco_ Narcissa said, her voice taking on an anxious edge even in Draco’s head, _I don’t know what they’re going to do to you here. I know what happened with Corban didn’t happen the way he says he did but he’s drummed up a lot of anger about it. No one is happy with you, or your father and I, since news came out, even when we tried to argue because it might not have really been you. You being here… with Potter… I don’t know if I’ll be able to protect you…_

 

 _I don’t expect you to_ Draco thought, not seeing the way Narcissa flinched at the confession.

 

It was painfully true though. Draco knew that his mother loved him, but the calculation was simple. No matter what they did to Draco, if she intervened she could risk the lives of not only her son but of her husband and herself. If she did nothing she would secure hers and her husband’s positions and guarantee their safety. Their son’s life wasn’t a price Draco thought she would sacrifice happily or comfortably, but ultimately Narcissa Malfoy was a practical and emotionally detached woman.

 

Draco braced himself.

 

Narcissa saw the change in her son’s demeanour instantly, his shoulders rolled back, squaring in preparation for what was to come. His jaw clenched and remarkably, he made no move to beg for mercy or to renounce Potter who was quite obviously locked and ready to fight. She could tell, before a word had even been spoken, that he would defend Draco with his life.

 

But of course he would, he came from a family of people who threw themselves at death’s door for the people they loved. The Malfoys were different, the Blacks were different. Love was lovely and made life wonderful, but it wasn’t the be all and end all. There were other things to consider as well. Family, legacy, reputation, all of those things were in many cases more important than love.

 

She rationalised quietly to herself. Reflecting on the kind of life she had given to her son.

 

He had grown up wealthy, something few kids were lucky enough to experience the privilege of. In that regard she had certainly succeeded. She had married well enough that her child had wanted for nothing.

 

But had he been happy?

 

She’d never really asked herself that question.

 

By every objective measurement he should have been a very happy child. He had a small army of house elves to do his bidding, he had regularly scheduled appointments of bonding with herself and Lucius both of whom appreciated the importance of spending time with their son once and a while to encourage proper development. He performed well in school and had a close group of obedient friends.

 

But she couldn’t remember the last time she had heard him laugh.

 

It must have been years ago.

 

He never really got excited about anything.

 

He didn’t tell her anything of importance about his life, she didn’t know if he had been kissed, if he had a girlfriend or even if he had ever gone against her and Lucius’ advice and found a boyfriend. That was probably the last time he revealed anything personal to her- when he told her of his…. preferences. She had sympathised with his situation and her heart bled for her poor boy who would have to live with a loveless marriage and had conspired to begin proceedings to have him betrothed to the Parkinson girl, from his letters she knew that she and Draco were friendly and if he couldn’t have love she hoped she would be able to give her son friendship.

 

She had been devastated when she was told he died, for a few short hours she felt as if she would never breathe again, like her entire world was under the worst possible cruciatus curse. It was in the middle of her agony that she put the pieces together- the lack of a body, the fact that Draco’s trunk only had half of his possessions inside, the fact that he had been given an overwhelming and impossible mission which threatened everything he loved- it became quickly clear to her that Draco hadn’t come to harm, he had instead found an escape, exactly as he should have. She continued to play the part of the weeping, heart broken mother to keep up the ruse for her son. She did not begrudge him his freedom, nor did she seek to join him, once comfortable with the knowledge that he was safe she returned to her duty as a wife to a high profile Death Eater.

 

“Let us contact the Dark Lord” Lucius said, trying to divert attention away from their son, Naricssa had to admire the effort, though she wished he hadn’t said anything, her sister would certainly see through the ploy.

 

“We will” Bellatrix said, stepping in front of her brother in law, asserting her place among their ranks. “He will of course be overjoyed with the capture of Potter. But we have him now. It makes no difference if he is killed right now or in a few hours. What we can’t delay is dealing with your pathetic spawn.”

 

She watched, her body tightening with anxiety as Draco was pushed more aggressively to the floor. The Potter boy was dragged away by Lucius on Bella’s order and her sister turned her hungry eyes on her baby.

 

Narcissa had always been petrified of her sister, her infamous bloodthirstiness had started very young and herself and their older sister Andromeda had been among the first targets of Bellatrix’s viciousness. Now it was turned on her son.

 

“Traitor” Bella’s voice hissed, her quiet tone still echoing menacingly through the hall. “How dare you? How dare you turn your back on everything you were raised to be? You were given everything, ever chance to be the Dark Lord’s perfect servant. Pure blood, ancient and noble lineage, a well connected family… we need people like you and you think you can just turn your back on us? Did you really think you could just walk away? Like we couldn’t get you back? You either fight with us or you die. And after what you did to poor Corban, who only wanted to help you, to get you back from the savage Mudblood lovers you tainted yourself with, there’s only one option left for you.”

 

Draco held his Aunt’s manic gaze head on, refusing to allow the fear that poisoned his blood to break him. Only a few short months ago he might not have had the courage to face the situation he was now in, today, all he could think was he was glad Harry wouldn’t have to see what was about to happen.

 

 

*******

 

 

Harry was dragged kicking and fighting down to the dungeons in Malfoy manor by a surprisingly strong Lucius Malfoy.

 

Lucius had Harry at wand point, his face was tired and drawn, looking much older than he was and he was regarding Harry with a curious combination of fear and curiosity- not the kind of expression one usually had at the person you had captive. He directed Harry into a dungeon cell and slammed the door between them.

 

Harry glared furiously at him. Whatever it was that made Draco all the wonderful things that he was Harry had no idea where he got it from. Draco was brave, expressive and warm- it seemed that neither of his parents had either quality.

 

It was then that the sound of Draco’s first scream broke between them.

 

Harry and Lucius stared at each other in horror. It was the most awful sound Harry had ever heard.

 

Harry snapped into action, slamming his body against the iron door, calling out desperately to Draco and pleading with the senior Malfoy to release him.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you? He’s your son!” Harry shouted, his stomach clenching in horror as another choked scream echoed through the stone walls of the Manor house.

 

“He made his decisions…” Lucius said, his blond brows crinkling in his own revolution at what was happening.

 

“There’s no way you believe that.”

 

“What am I supposed to do?” He snapped, his long blond hair whipping around him as he turned to look back up the stairs to where his son was being tortured as his wife was forced to sit and watch.

 

“Fucking anything!” Harry shouted, “literally anything at all would be better than you just standing here and letting it happen, letting your own son be tortured in your home. For fucks sake Malfoy! You lot act like you’re this proud family and that being a Malfoy is some impressive thing, but you’re completely pathetic. What the hell has to happen to a person for them to be so far gone that they don’t even try to protect their own kid?”

 

Lucius’s eyes were bloodshot and he lowered his gaze, unable to meet Harry’s glare as shame washed over him. “He’ll kill us.”

 

“If Draco dies up there, at the hands of your own family, you’re worse than dead anyway” Harry spat, vowing to himself that if Draco didn’t survive he would kill the bastard before him himself.

 

“Can you get to him?” Lucius asked, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper.

 

“Are you going to let me out?”

 

“I need you to take my wand, curse me and then throw it to the ground. Get to Draco and tell him that the apparation wards are still open to Malfoys, if he has the strength he’ll be able to get the two of you out of here.”

 

Harry nodded, not willing to risk pointing out to Lucius, who looked like he was single handedly facing down an army, that he was barely meeting the minimum requirement of protecting his child by doing this - he could privately think that Lucius was a spineless coward, telling him so now would only waste valuable time.

 

Lucius nodded once, passing his wand through the bars of the cellar, just as another scream tore through the air, Draco’s voice was sounding hoarse, like his screams were tearing at his vocal chords. Harry’s blood ran cold at the thought of what might be happening to him up there- what he might walk in on when he got to him. His beautiful, wonderful Draco- he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek to prevent from crying- he didn’t have the time.

 

Blasting the door open Harry stunned Lucius before honouring his promise and dropping his wand beside him. The man was a complete disgrace, but he knew Draco wouldn’t want him leaving his father defenceless in a house full of angry Death Eaters.

 

He sprinted up the stairs as fast as his legs could carry him.

 

When he got back to the Hall he nearly collapsed as he took in the sight.

 

Blood was everywhere.

 

So much bright, ruby red blood pooled around Draco’s limp body- his eyes swollen shut and his body torn to ribbons by the same curse Draco had used on Yaxely.

 

Narcissa Malfoy was sobbing, her arms bound behind her as two burly Death Eaters forcibly held her back as she cried, her face slashed and bloodied as she fought against her holders. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face red where she had obviously just been sharply hit as well as cursed, the delicate pale skin would soon form a dark bruise Narcissa would wear as a badge of shame for weeks. If the sounds were anything to go by he was sure the sight of what happened to Draco would have decimated any part of Narcissa that still clung to her cool exterior. Like with her husband Harry was unmoved by her last minute attempt to defend her son.

 

Harry fired curses indiscriminately, knocking Bellatrix out quickly as he took advantage of the element of surprise.

 

He raced down to Draco and cradled his head delicately in his lap and tried to wake him.

 

“Baby? Baby please? Please be okay, I need you to wake up now honey I am so so sorry I love you so much” Harry babbled, gently shaking Draco to try and rouse him.

 

He continued shooting curses at anyone who approached and despite the increased magical skill of the Death Eaters coming towards him, Harry was in a state of such emotional distress that his magic was coming out unpredictable and more powerful than ever before. He was like a child producing accidental magic during a tantrum, raw magical power poured out of him, indiscriminately cutting down approaching Death Eaters.

 

Narcissa managed to break free and ran forward crouching down beside the Potter boy and Draco.

 

“Oh my boy, I am so sorry my love” She cried, her distress and fear causing her to babble along the same lines as Harry had.

 

“Potter?” She asked, turning her attention to the boy whose lap her son now lay in. “Can you get him out of here?”

 

“Mr Malfoy said the wards would only open for a Malfoy, I can’t get out of here if Draco is unconscious.”

 

“Do you have anywhere you can go? Anywhere safe?” She asked desperately.

 

“Yes”

 

“Grab my arm, be careful of his,” she told Harry remembering the horrible way Bella had tried to carve the mark off her son, screaming angrily that he never deserved it in the first place.

 

Harry grabbed onto her without question and they apparated away.

 

When they reappeared in the forest outside the Manor, Narcissa kissed her son’s forehead, “take him somewhere safe Potter. Please look after him.”

 

“Will you and Mr Malfoy be okay?” Harry asked as he fished the two way mirror out of his pocket.

 

“We will find a way” she reassured, already turning to apparate back out- ready to go and do damage control. Harry seethed.

 

As soon as she was out of sight Harry held the mirror to his eye line, “Remus!” he shouted, “we’re in the forest outside Malfoy Manor, we were captured by Death Eaters and Draco… Remus he’s barely breathing I don’t know what to do we need help!”

 


	40. Chapter 40

Remus Lupin apparated to the point Harry described immediately. Harry had been involved in far too many near death and otherwise dangerous moments and the panic in his voice was enough to spring Remus immediately into action. Harry wouldn’t sound like that if the situation wasn’t completely dire.

 

When he arrived, just outside the grounds of Malfoy Manor, the sight turned even his robust stomach.

 

Draco lay unconscious on the ground beside Harry, completely covered in his own blood and sliced to near ribbons. His forearm, where he knew the Dark Mark had once been, was completely bloodied and gouged, the word “TRAITOR” carved into the flesh above. Remus could only imagine how painful that would have been.

 

Harry was bent over Draco, sobbing violently against the boy he was holding so gently. Harry didn’t even look up when the sound of Remus’ apparition broke the otherwise silent forest. Remus doubted he even noticed the tell tale pop of someone new entering the sense.Harry just kept petting Draco’s hair and softly begging him to be okay- it was heartbreaking to see.

 

Remus approached slowly, not wanting to startle Harry.

 

“Come on, we’ll bring him back to the Weasleys and get him patched up” Remus said, “he’s going to be alright”.

 

He knew he shouldn’t promise something like that, that there was every chance Draco wouldn’t be okay, but in that moment he knew Harry really needed to hear it.

 

He delicately took hold of Draco, being extremely careful not to make any of his extensive wounds worse and Harry grabbed tightly to Remus’ hand before they landed back in the burrow.

 

Draco groaned loudly with the discomfort of apparation and Harry immediately jumped to his side apologising profusely for hurting him and promising him help. The groan had been a relief though, Draco was breathing and at least semi conscious. That was a good sign.

 

Over the next few minutes there was a flurry of activity, none of which Harry was able to process very well. Mrs. Weasley helped to bring Draco inside, he wasn’t sure if he overheard an argument about that before hand, she tried saying hello to Harry but he brushed her off, needing to see Draco tended to first.

 

Draco was looked after by a series of Order members who had bits and pieces of healing training. They poked and prodded, cast spells and fed potions, the blood covering Draco’s body was cleaned up, and his clothes were replaced- Harry refused to leave his side, holding his hand the whole time.

 

Every time Draco whimpered or cried out as the healing process drew on-trying to knit a body that injured back together was never a pleasant experience- Harry would flinch in sympathy.

 

He hated it. Seeing someone he loved in so much pain. It was heartbreaking, soul crushing and demoralising all at once. But there was an up side. Draco was healing.

 

It was slow, that much was unfortunately unavoidable. But even Harry could see how his bruises were starting to lighten and his skin was slowly starting to seal back together. He would be covered in scar damage, but he would live.

 

It was days later before Harry agreed to leave Draco’s room to get some proper sleep, sleeping upright in a chair for half hour bursts wasn’t doing him any favours. But after much pleading and negotiating with Mrs. Weasley he agreed to get some sleep on his own, on the strict condition that he was woken up immediately if Draco started to stir. He absolutely refused to have Draco wake up somewhere unfamiliar surrounded by people he didn’t know or trust- not after what he had just been through.

 

It was on his way to his assigned room that he saw Ron and Hermione for the first time.

 

When he saw them he almost immediately took a back step. They were waiting just outside the door to his room so there was really no way for him to avoid whatever conversation they wanted to have right now, despite his emotional overwhelm and extreme fatigue.

 

It wasn’t that Harry was angry with them for leaving, he was, but right now he just had more important things to feel- he just really didn’t have the capacity to deal with anything more- not while he still wasn’t sure if Draco would recover.

 

He took a deep breath to steady himself and met Hermione’s gaze, saying nothing. She left, she could talk first.

 

“Harry we feel so badly about what’s happened. Really. We’ve been stuck here with no information and no real way to help and we haven’t even been able to go back to school because of my being a muggle born and Ron’s Spattergroit. We shouldn’t have left you we are so sorry. I feel truly terrible.”

 

“Look Hermione. I’m not trying to be insensitive but bugger off will you. We can talk about this later.” Harry said, attempting to push past.

 

“Harry I really think we should talk about this now. We should clear the air” she argued, holding her ground.

 

“I said not right now.”

 

“Please. Harry. We’ve been best friends for years, doesn’t that count for anything?” Hermione begged, her eyes filling with tears.

 

“You know what,” Harry seethed, his anger rising quickly, “I could ask you the same question.”

 

Ron drew himself up to his impressive height, as if waiting for the conversation to take this turn“You’re talking about Malfoy?”

 

“Yeah. I’m talking about Malfoy. I’m talking about the fact that he just got tortured by his own relatives for abandoning everything they stand for to come with me. He was very nearly killed back there by the people who used to love him more than anyone in the world. His own parents didn’t even really help him, at least not right away. All that, and all you want to talk about is how bad YOU feel right now. Fuck off. We can talk when Draco recovers. Until he’s up and on the mend I really don’t give a shit how hard things have been for you. You haven’t even asked me how the last few weeks have been for me have you? All you care about is that you have been feeling bad and somehow its my job to make things better for you”

 

“Harry I appreciate that you’re upset and you’ve been through a lot but we just didn’t know how to deal with everything. We were caught off guard by your friendship with Draco and we didn’t communicate that in an effective way. We are really sorry and we’re trying to take responsibility for that…”

 

“No, you aren’t.” Harry snapped, “you’re not trying to take responsibility at all, you’re trying to make me feel guilty for being friends with Draco. You’re not even acknowledging whats just happened here. Go up and see Draco. Go and look for yourself at what he’s been through and then see if you have the gall to come and whinge at me like its up to me to fix your hurt feelings right now when I have so much else to worry about.”

 

“Alight” Hermione conceded, letting her tears fall over her face, “we’ll talk again soon.”

 

Harry went back into his room angrily but was too exhausted to stew over the exchange. He went straight to sleep.

 

Hermione hadn’t actually been trying to be manipulative, despite how the disastrous attempt at talking to Harry had gone. Unfortunately her own intelligence often worked against her when it came to how she interacted with her peers. She was so used to being the smartest person in the room that when she was met with disagreement she almost always defaulted to assuming that the other person was wrong. She had always been socially awkward, and now the combination of her offence at the fact that Harry hadn’t taken her word about Malfoy Ron’s fury about being replaced in the best friend position meant that the two of them had been angrily commiserating about the issue for weeks. She genuinely couldn’t see how her behaviour was being interpreted by her friend.

 

That changed the moment she took Harry’s advice and went up to see Draco.

 

With Ron beside her the pair peeked inside Draco’s room. He looked awful. So awful in fact that Hermione took a step backwards to lean against Ron’s chest in horror.

 

As a young, bullied tween she had often hoped secretly that Draco would come to some sort of awful end, but seeing the scars, the bloodies slashes and the way his chest seemed to struggle with every rise and fall the thought of a violent justice seemed so much more horrific than she had once assumed. She didn’t pretend to like Draco, but there was something about seeing him so broken that brought tears to her eyes. She didn’t want this. She didn’t even think Draco deserved this. No one did.

 

She wondered guiltily if she and Ron had stayed behind with Harry and Draco if what had happened to Draco could have been avoided, maybe it would have been easier to get away if they had more backup. She didn’t know.

 

Harry’s accusation that she hadn’t asked what had happened to them while they’d been away hit her as she stared at Draco’s unconscious body- she had just assumed that Harry and Draco would be doing more of the same, camping and moving and not really doing much. But what if she and Ron had just been slowing them down? What if they had been facing dangerous situations more regularly- like the kind they had faced at the ministry? How far along were they in the Horcrux hunt, she had assumed they wouldn’t have made any progress, but maybe that was just another way she had been wrong.

 

“Ron?” She asked, her tearful face looking up at him sadly, “have we been wrong?”

 

Ron looked down at the girl clinging to him, clearly emotional at the sight of their former nemesis’ mangled body, he had been having thoughts along a similar line as her and struggled to put his thoughts into words. “I don’t know Hermione, we might have been.”

 

***

 

Harry slept very lightly and was up in an instant when Remus shook him gently and whispered “I thought you might want to know, Draco is waking up.”

 

Harry sprang up out of bed and made a beeline straight up the stairs. He took them two at a time, so determined to see Draco wake up with his own eyes, so desperate to see him okay that it drove all other rational thought from his brain. Ron and Hermione could wait, the rest of his whole damn mission could wait, sleep, food, debriefing the order- it could all wait- he needed to see Draco.

 

He arrived up the multiple flights of stairs short of breath, just in time to witness the most beautiful sight in the world. Draco Malfoy’s pale blond lashes fluttering open to reveal his perfect molten silver eyes.

 

Harry rushed to his side and grabbed his hand, holding on tightly and planting a firm kiss to his lips. “Hey baby” he murmured sweetly, delighting in the way Draco’s still foggy mind tried to catch up with what was happening- his face split into a confused but very happy smile.

 

“Harry” he said, returning the kiss and smiling up at Harry who was leaning above him, “where are we?”

 

“We’re at the Weasley’s place hon. You’ve been out for a few days. Do you feel alright?”

 

“I feel fine, a bit sore maybe… what happened?” Draco pulled his arm out from under the blanket and his eyes widened immediately in alarm. Rotating his mangled arm he gulped at the sight of it. He pulled the fabric forward on his shirt and peeked at his chest underneath. His long fingers came up to delicately feel his face, wincing at the frequent spots of pain he found as he glided them across his slightly roughened and stubbled jaw.

 

“What happened?” Draco asked again, his voice this time not one of curious interest but of obvious disturbance.

 

His eyes darted once again to Harry, whohe scanned immediately for signs of similar damage. He didn’t know what had happened to him but he urgently needed to know that Harry had avoided a similar fate.

 

Harry’s eyes had dark rings around them- which may be due to the fact that he had said it had been a few days that Draco had been unconcious, if it had been the other way around there was no way he would have slept himself, so doubtless Harry hadn’t either. Other than that though, the other boy seemed to be mercifully alright.

 

Harry took a seat on the bed beside Draco, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “I honestly don’t know how much I should tell you…” Harry said.

 

“Why can’t I remember? How did I get like this?” Draco demanded.

 

Harry twisted awkwardly with discomfort. If Draco didn’t know what happened it meant that he was potentially spared the memory of the worst thing that had ever happened to him- once his body healed to Draco it would be like it never happened. He wouldn’t have to carry the emotional scars of what had happened to him along with the physical ones. He would

 

“I’m assuming you can’t remember because you sustained so much damage. It happens sometimes when someone is injured badly enough, the brain doesn’t keep the memory of what happened as a way to protect itself. Draco… it was so bad. There was a taboo on You-Know-Who’s name and I said it, they found us, these wannabe Death Eaters and… Merlin Draco…” Harry pulled Draco close to him, inhaling the calming scent of his hair before mustering the courage to speak again, “they took us to Malfoy Manor. It was horrible, your parents were there and they tried to protect you but Bellatrix was pretty pissed off about the whole thing with Yaxely, they locked me down in the dungeon and… Bellatrix… well she did all that to you” Harry said softly, lamely gesturing to Draco’s shredded body.

 

Draco knew that he was being given an extremely edited and minimal recount of what happened but judging by the way Harry’s body had begun to tremble he wasn’t sure he wanted any more detail than that. For now he didn’t want to know anymore.

 

Except one thing.

 

“My parents, are they okay?”

 

“Yeah” Harry nodded, “your mum mangaged to sneak away to apparate us out, she saved both of us. Your dad let me out of the dungeon and got me to stun him to make it look like I’d just broken out. I don’t really know whats happened to them in the days since we left but I think they’ll be okay, they’re pretty resourceful.”

 

Draco nodded, “they are. I’m actually surprised to hear they did that, helping us out like that. I wouldn’t have thought the risk would be worth it to them.”

 

“Draco they love you so much, they’re just a bit weird about showing it.”

 

Draco smiled sadly and rested his head back on Harry’s shoulder, threading their fingers together and staring down at their joined hands.

 

Love.

 

The word hit Harry in the silence as he stared with Draco at their interlocked fingers. Draco didn’t remember Harry telling him he loved him. He had said it, so beautifully and openly and he had been so happy to hear it and now he didn’t remember.

 

If there was one good thing that came out of the nightmare they had endured it was that moment. If nothing else that should be the part Draco remembered, the memory he got back.

 

But would he want to know? Would he want to know about one more horrible thing that had happened to him that night, about the beautiful memory he would never know- Draco didn’t remember the first time Harry told him he loved him.

 

But that meant he might not know that Harry loved him at all.

 

That was worse.

 

Harry continued to debate for a few more seconds before his introspective monologuing was interrupted by a huff from the blond, “I can hear your brain working from here. If there’s something else I need to know about just tell me.”

 

 

Harry could feel the way Draco’s body tensed as he prepared to hear about some other awful thing that happened to him. He hadn’t missed the way Draco stressed the word ‘need’ in his request.

 

“There is one more thing yeah” Harry nodded, “its not bad though. It was actually really great and I’m just thinking it sucks that you missed it.”

 

“Oh?” Draco said, turning to face Harry a bit more, his silver eyes staring up at him hopefully. He really was just heartbreakingly stunning, Harry mused.

 

“You missed me telling you that I love you.”

 

Despite the scars and the bruises, the way his body was battered and bloodied, Harry couldn’t help but think Draco was completely adorable when his face split into a huge smile. “Did I tell you that I love you too?”

 

“Yeah, you did”

 

“Good. Because I love you so incredibly much Harry Potter” Draco said, pulling Harry in close.

 

“Nowhere near as much as I love you Draco Malfoy” Harry responded, lips already against Draco’s.

 

Draco reached up, grabbing Harry’s face to hold it in position as he gently licked and nipped at Harry’s lips, his happiness threatening to burst out of him. Within moments his hands were grabbing at the rest of Harry as well, pulling him tightly against him, and Harry returned the favour, helping Draco’s wandering hands by grinding his body down harder along with the hands that urged him on. He ran his hands up Harry’s sides, over his hips and along the ridges of his strong back. Harry in turn grabbed at Draco’s thigh, pulling his leg up and over his hip and slotting his own thigh suggestively between them.

 

Draco moaned and kissed Harry back even more frantically, attempting to roll his hips upwards to meet Harry’s downward grinds. The tension built quickly between the pair who had had their fair share of tension bubbling below the surface for a long time. It was Draco, of course, who first grew impatient, with a gasp he pulled away from the kiss and tugged at Harry’s shirt, “Please Harry” he panted pulling more obviously at the fabric, “off”.

 

Harry was instantly spurred on by Draco’s eagerness. He pulled back and ripped the shirt from his body, revealing to Draco for the first time the expanse of his toned, golden chest. Almost without concious thought, Draco’s hands came up to explore the skin on display before him. Harry was so incredibly beautiful and he couldn’t believe his luck that he was being allowed to touch him. He was letting him. Draco was about ninety percent sure it wasn’t a dream either which made it all so much better.

 

Harry leaned down and pressed his lips against Draco’s again, his own hands sliding up under Draco’s shirt, carefully avoiding the bandages and sensitive spots as he mapped out the skin beneath Draco’s shirt.

 

“This okay?” Harry asked, trying to be gentle, the feel of Draco’s smooth skin driving him wild. He pulled back though, worried that he would aggrivate Draco’s injuries.

 

“Yeah, feels good” Draco told him, chasing Harry’s lips.

 

As Harry moved to pull the fabric off him though Draco froze.

 

“I’m just… I’m pretty busted up at the moment… I don’t look…”

 

Harry kissed him again, “Draco,” he murmured, hands running gently up and down his sides, “this doesn’t have to go any further, if you don’t want to do anything that’s fine, but trust me, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my entire life. If this is about your injuries, trust me, they’re not going to change anything.”

 

Draco laughed awkwardly, “aren’t you the one who had some reservations about this before? You sure you don’t just feel bad for me?”

 

Harry rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I was nervous, you’re the most amazing person in my life and I was scared to screw it up but I love you so much and after everything that happened I just… I want to experience everything with you. I did before too, I just think all the stuff I was worried about is so much less important now.”

 

Draco beamed up at him, “I’m not quite ready for… ‘everything’, as in like, properly everything. But yeah, get over here Potter. I’ve been wanting you for fucking ages.”

 

Without any further words said, Draco practically ripped his shirt off, pulling Harry’s mouth back down to his own immediately and relishing in the feel of their bare chests against each others.

 

Harry groaned loudly and pulled back again, taking in the sight below him, his eyes almost seeming to slide over the scars and bruises on Draco’s chest as they explored. Harry looked at him like he was a work of art, with an expression that looked something like awe. Draco’s insecurity melted under the gaze. “You are so incredibly beautiful its hard to believe you’re real sometimes” Harry confessed, bringing his lips back to Draco’s throat.

 

In an even more exciting development Draco’s hands began to travel further south, coming to rest on waistband of Harry’s pyjama bottoms, a questioning finger dipping below the elastic band, “can I?” Draco panted, lips still firmly against Harry’s, “I really want to see you Harry”.

 

If Harry’s mind weren’t so overwhelmed with lust he would have blushed the deepest ruby red at the statement but in a move that would have embarrassed him only a few short days ago kiss Harry nodded without even breaking the kiss, pushing his hips closer to Draco’s hand. The most important thing in the world was suddenly getting Draco’s hand as close to him as possible, as fast as possible.

 

Draco’s hand slipped below the elastic waistband, trailing curiously along Harry’s length. He could have guessed by the feeling from when Harry had pressed down against him that he was generously sized, but feeling it below his fingers sent a thrill through his body, emboldening him enough to grip the hot flesh firmly.

 

Harry groaned loudly into Draco’s mouth, thrusting his hips forward urgently into the fist Draco made around his shaft.

 

Draco’s hand pumped up and down a couple times experimentally but the angle was off, and the pyjama bottoms that were still around Harry’s waist and Draco’s arm were restricting his movements. Harry pulled them down as well, bringing his boxers down with them, discarding them somewhere over the side of the bed.

 

Draco glanced down and his breath left him all at once. “Wow” he exhaled, hoping the simple statement was enough to convey the magnitude of what the sight did to him.

 

Harry’s cock was perfection.

 

Actual perfection.

 

Granted, Draco had never seen anyone else’s, at least not in this sort of context, but he was certain that it couldn’t get any better. He was long and thick, with dark curled hairs decorating the base of the flushed skin. Oh Merlin he was so fucking lucky.

 

He reached forward to grab ahold of it again but Harry grabbed his wrist to stop him, if Draco touched him now he would get too lost in it, it was too good to think straight and there were far more important things to do first.

 

“Your turn” he said, his voice deep and gravelly as his eyes met Draco’s.

 

Draco’s pupils blew even wider and though he would deny it later, a desperate whimper broke through his lips and he raised his hips to allow Harry to pull his bottoms off as well.

 

Harry actually gasped when he saw Draco, at a complete loss for words. Having always been the practical sort, he found it much easier to express his admiration through action. He leaned down, kissing and sucking urgently against Draco’s collar bones, leaving little red marks along the alabaster skin in his wake. Without stopping his ministrations he grabbed the base of Draco’s erection and dragged his fist along the length.

 

Draco’s back arched as a loud moan escaped him. He thrust his hips up into Harry’s fist and rapidly began to lose himself in the sensation of Harry’s hands on him. The heat of Harry’s warm skin spread through him like fire and all he could think was ‘yes’ ‘Harry’ and ‘more’, he couldn’t have honestly recounted if he had said any of it out loud or not (he had).

 

Draco’s moans, groans and panted encouragements were spurring Harry on, and he was so lost in the moment he barely even understood what was happening when Draco rolled his body slightly, tipping Harry off balance and bringing him down to his side facing Draco. Almost immediately Draco shuffled himself closer, hooking Harry’s leg up and over his hip to bring their erections closer together.

 

The room was filled with the sounds of flesh against flesh, moans, sighs, pleading for more and increasingly urgent whimpers as they sped up their motions with their mounting desperation as their bodies wound tighter and tighter under the other’s hands.

 

Draco pulled back, aware that he didn’t have much more time left before this would all be over, he grabbed Harry’s wrist to stop his motions and Harry let out a loud groan of frustration when Draco’s own hand ceased its rythmn.

 

“Draco baby please!” Harry whined.

 

Draco chuckled, loving the thrill of power that went through his body at having Harry Potter so completely at his mercy. Having Harry, his sweet, wonderful, caring and amazing Harry so desperate for him. It was honestly leaving him feeling a little lightheaded.

 

He pulled Harry even closer, lining the pair of them up against each other and wrapped his hand around them both at the same time- yeah okay, that was so much better than even his most explicit fantasies about it. Draco’s hand worked them both as Harry whimpered, drowning in the feeling of wave after wave of pleasure coursing though him like he had never experienced. As Draco’s rythmn began to falter and his hand increased speed Harry brought his own to join, making the grip on their cocks even tighter. Together they horridly worked their hands and ground their hips, panting frantically into each other’s mouths.

 

Ultimately it was Draco who faltered first, his hips stuttering against Harry’s as his voice cried out “Harryyyy” in a sudden rush of the most exquisite release he had ever felt. The sight, the sound and the feel of Draco’s release was the final push Harry needed and he followed less than a heartbeat later grunting Draco’s name harshly, and more quietly, into Draco’s ear.

 

For a few moments they lay quietly, allowing their breathing to slowly even back out, the pleasure they had experienced still washing gently over them as their skin continued to tingle with the after effects of an amazing few minutes.

 

With a quiet laugh, Draco broke the silence, “please tell me I didn’t also forget about us doing this?”

 

Harry chucked in response, “no, you didn’t. Though I don’t know about you, but this was pretty damn unforgettable from my end.”

 

Draco kissed him lightly on the forehead and pulled him closer, Harry’s head coming to rest against his chest, “yeah. It was completely unforgettable for me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was so nervous about posting this one!! Hope everyone enjoyed! Your positive feedback so far has been so wonderful- thank you so much to anyone who has taken the time to comment or leave kudos it really does make writing so much easier.


	41. Chapter 41

This is what it meant to be blissful- Harry thought vaguely as he woke, softly coming to reality with Draco tangled all around him. He could feel every crevice of Draco’s body as he lay draped across him, his arms wound tightly around his waist and his nose buried comfortably against his sternum, breathing in his comforting smell. Their legs were interlocked and where their hands were close enough their fingers laced together. No part of them wanted to be separated, even in sleep. 

It was luxuriously slowly that Harry came to awareness, the events of the night before filtering into his consciousness slowly, as if giving him the chance to re-experience every moment. Whispered confessions of love, wandering hands, tongues, lips and so much more. It was so much better than Harry would have expected it to be. He had fantasised, of course he had, for months now, but the fantasies had always been vague, as if a part of him held back from wanting to imagine anything particular- anything that could be proven wrong. But even in those moments when he dared to dream and wonder, he wasn’t even close to how amazing it was in real life. 

Draco truly was a wonder. 

By the time Harry was fully awake, Draco was still slumbering comfortably. Harry wasn’t surprised as Draco’s body still needed plenty of time to heal and recover, his own was tired enough from the night before. But the memories were getting distracting. 

With a wicked smile gracing his face Harry pulled himself up to align closer with Draco, slowly trailing his lips along his collar bones, his sternum and up along his throat and jaw. Tenderly and gently Harry kissed, nipped and sucked each exposed inch of skin beneath him, relishing in the opportunity to do so. 

It wasn’t long before Draco moaned at the sensation. A wide smile betraying his attempt to pretend to still be asleep. 

“Thats an amazing way to wake up” Draco said, smirking in that way that he knew Harry secretly found horribly sexy. 

“Oh is it?” Harry asked innocently, dragging his teeth along the shell of Draco’s ear, “this enough for you?”

At that Draco laughed, “of course not Potter, I’ve finally got a taste of what you’ve got to offer you think I’ll settle for a few chaste little pecks now?” 

Harry laughed, the kisses he was dotting around Draco’s body were nowhere near chaste, especially considering he had just licked a stripe along the entire column of his neck while grinding forcefully down on top of him. Both boys groaned deeply in approval of the move. 

As their hands made quick work of reaquainting themselves with the other, their awareness of their surroundings faded into the background, unimportant compared to the joys that the body beside them presented. Harry was rolling his hips slowly, drawing out each long thrust against Draco’s willing body as Draco’s hands grabbed roughly at his ass, pulling him that much closer. The room was filled with the symphony of their moans, groans, sighs of pleasure and whispered encouragements. 

Neither of them even noticed Ron’s footsteps as they came up the stairs.

Having grown up around so many siblings one would be inclined to assume that Ron Weasley had learned how to knock on a door before entering a room- unfortunately one would be wrong in that assumption. Ron was constantly barging in on awkward situations, from his brothers with a girl over, his brothers without a girl over, to any number of fights and secret discussions and snogs. 

Yet, in he came without so much as a word to announce his arrival.

Unfortunately for Ron’s eyes Harry and Draco were far too interested in each other to even notice the door opening or hear the footsteps as they came into the room. It wasn’t until they heard the belligerent shout of ‘OI! What the hell is this?” That they broke apart, turning in dazed confusion tot he source of the interruption. 

“Oh hello Weasley. This is snogging. Bugger off now please” Draco said, his frustration allowing his signature sneer to seep into his tone. 

“I don’t bloody well think so!” Ron protested, “since when do you lot do this then?”

“What? Snogging?” Harry asked… “since you and Hermione left I guess. Why? Does it bother you?”

The question was asked innocently, as if Harry was just trying to be cheeky. But Draco could tell by the subtle way Harry’s position shifted to being just a little bit more defensive that he was genuinely worried the answer would be yes. Most likely not ‘yes’ to him having a problem with snogging Draco- that much was entirely to be expected, it would be alarming if he wasn’t against the idea of his best friend getting well aquantied with his rival’s tonsils. But the ‘yes’ Harry was probably afraid of was ‘yes, it bothers me that you like boys’. Draco tensed too, preparing a whole arsenal of responses should Weasely be dumb enough to antagonise Harry further. 

“Well for one thing I didn’t even know you were into blokes” Ron burst out, “you could have told us or we wouldn’t have been encouraging Ginny to go after you- she was really hurt when you turned her down- I figured she just wasn’t your type. But I guess its just one more thing in your life you don’t think is important enough to tell your best mate about…” Ron ranted. 

“Wait… you’re upset I didn’t tell you, not that… I mean… not that I do…. like blokes I mean?”

“Yeah, of course that’s whats upset me- I mean I’ll be honest I’m not thrilled about having seen it, I reckon if you wanted to go after a bloke there are far better options out there, but the whole bloke thing isn’t a big deal.”

“It is for muggles” Harry said, trying to hide his happiness.

Ron shrugged, “we aren’t muggles though.” 

As if that was all that mattered. 

“I won’t pretend I approve of this though” Ron said, with his characteristic skill at putting his foot in his mouth in every possible situation. 

“We don’t need your approval Weasley” Draco said, rolling his eyes. 

“It would be nice if you could at least be happy for me” Harry sighed, “I know you’re not a fan of Draco but I really do love him, like proper in love kind of love… I’m really happy with him and thats not something I ever really thought I would get.” He pleaded, hoping Ron would understand. 

This year had been rough on Harry and Ron’s friendship and in a lot of ways Ron was right when he complained about Harry not telling him things anymore, he had started hiding a lot- afraid of wha the response would be. Ron though, seemed to on some level understand the threshold their friendship was currently balancing in, if he didn’t respond correctly to this situation, this might be one more step away from each other he and Harry made, if he said the right thing, they might step closer and begin to mend. But they couldn’t stand still anymore. That time was passed.

Ron sighed, defeated, “yeah okay, I do really just want you to be happy Harry. Before, back when we left, I was really jealous that I’d been replaced with a new best mate, kind of brought up a lot of stuff for me, and then it was Malfoy who I won’t pretend I like at all. I really didn’t handle it well though. I am sorry. For the record though, I think you can do a lot better.”

Harry snorted but smiled wildly, getting up out of bed to hug Ron gratefully. 

There was hope for them yet. 

Draco nodded in thanks, despite the end of the decleration he was relived that Harry didn’t have to get tied up in knots worrying about the continued deterioration of his friendship with the ginger. In fact, seeing the way Harry smiled, the way his face lit up with such pure happiness at the prospect of having his first friend back, Draco decided to do him a favour.

Loudly he scoffed, drawing immediate attention to himself (which had always been a talent of his) “You think he can do a lot better?”

Both turned to face him, Harry with his eyes wide and pleading, almost begging him silently not to make things worse. He ignored it, knowing he would break and smile, giving away the game if he met Harry’s eyes for too long.

Weasley rolled his eyes “‘course I do Malfoy.”

“Well when it comes to you and Granger the saddest thing is that both of you could do better”

“Hermione? What’s she got to do with it?”

Draco faked a surprised expression, “You aren’t together? I just assume from the way she was always ogling you and wanting to talk about you that the pair of you were shagging and she was trying to brag.” He pretended to think, “Oh… oh right or did you break up wiht her or something and she’s not quite over it?”

“Hermione doesn’t fancy me!” Ron protested, his face flushing a predictable red. 

“I don’t know what the situation is between you two, if things are awkward or anything but luckily I don’t much care - she absolutely definitely fancies you. Anyone with eyes could see it.” Draco drawled feigning boredom with the conversation. 

He struggled to keep his composure though, seeing the way Weasley was fighting against a huge smile, the way he rounded on Harry hopefully. 

Harry, having finally caught on with the game, nodded awkwardly, playing along, “look mate I’m sorry I know I should have told you but you’re my best mates and I didn’t think you felt the same way about her” - Draco beamed proudly from the bed, hidden from view, Harry was such a liar! - “I was afraid if you knew that it might cause a rift between us. Things are awkward enough between us all when you and Hermione argue, I didn’t want to see what would happen if you broke her heart.”

Draco was absolutely thrilled, and determined to reward, the way Harry’s eyes fogged up, looking innocently up at Ron’s towering figure and playing off like this was a problem he had been grappling with for ages. Ron Weasley was many, many things, but subtle, especially in his affections for Hermione Granger, he most certainly was not. That Harry would lie to his face like that, as if he thought for a moment that Weasley might be the one to reject Granger- was actually perfect. 

And Weasley was buying it! 

“Listen Harry,” Weasley said, suddenly serious, forgetting Draco was in the room, “I’ve… well the truth is I’ve actually fancied Hermione for a long time now. Probably since fourth year I reckon.”

Harry- bless his beautiful lying heart- looked stunned. After a few appropriate moments of gaping he sputtered, “but Lavender!”

Draco nearly swooned. The performance was perfect.

“Yeah I mean, I know it was horrible, but I didn’t think anything would ever happen with Hermione, she was still writing to Krum at the time and I just thought there was no way I could ever compete with that. I figured I may as well take Lav up on her offer since at least she seemed keen.”

“Oh Ron,” Harry said sadly, “I think maybe thats why she was so sad last year…” As if the thought was only just occurring to him. 

Ron’s expression fell and, as a sign of just how much he wanted Granger, he turned to Harry and Draco both and asked desperately, “what do I do?”

“Go and snog her.” Draco said simply, enjoying the look of scandal that passed over his face.

“I can’t do that, just snog her like that… like just walk up to her and grab her and kiss her and tell her I love her and that. She’s Hermione! Doesn’t she want flowers or to go out sometime or something? I can’t just kiss her. Oh Merlin… Can I just kiss her?” He looked to Harry, as if asking for permission. 

“Of course you can. Make it obvious what you’re going to do though, so she has time to say no if she doesn’t want that”

“I thought you said she does want that!”

“Of course she does,” Draco rushed to reassure, “but she’s a classy kind isn’t she? Might prefer a bit of privacy. Snogging her in the middle of the kitchen might be a bit too much too soon you know?” 

It was just a bit disgusting how much the idea of snogging Granger in the kitchen seemed to excite poor Weasley.

He took in a huge deep breath, letting it all go a few seconds later in one massive exhale, apparently trying to settle his nerves. “Okay. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck!” Harry and Draco chimed, watching Weasley go in shared amusement. 

As soon as he was out the door Harry pushed it closed and cast a locking charm before turning to Draco with a huge smile on his face. 

“Come here you fantastic little liar!” Draco demanded, reaching out for Harry’s hand and pulling him on top of himself. 

Harry laughed and obliged, planting his lips firmly against Draco’s and sinking into his embrace. He laughed while they kissed, his smile breaking the rough snog which this time, didn’t bother Draco in the slightest. He loved a happy Harry. 

Playfully Draco nipped at Harry’s lower lip, tangling his hands into the birds nest of his hair. He pulled just enough to sting and Harry moaned, returning right back to where they were before Weasley interrupted. 

***

It was a few hours and a pair of orgasms later that Draco and Harry resurfaced. Finally willing to face the real world. Harry’s face was plastered with a permanent and seemingly unmovable dopey grin, while Draco was struggling not to smirk every time he looked at Harry. 

In short, it was disgustingly obvious what the pair had been up to.

But luckily for them, they weren’t the only ones being disgustingly obvious. 

When they went downstairs, with Harry helping Draco move through the house without aggravating his injuries, they were met with Granger and Weasley, cuddled up on the couch beside the fireplace. The same couch Harry and Draco had come in search of. 

Instead, Harry conjured the two separate chairs into a second couch and planted himself and Draco down onto it without a word. 

Granger’s hair was more wild than Draco had ever seen it, her already plump lips were rosy and kiss bitten and every few seconds she would gaze up at Weasley with a bright, sappy smile. 

Weasley was, shockingly, even worse for wear. His face seemed to have adopted his blush as a permanent fixture to his complexion. But Draco’s eyes immediately went to the aggressive red love bites that decorated Weasley’s neck. 

“So, I’m assuming things went well then?” He asked conversationally. 

The blush on Weasley’s face miraculously went even darker than it already was, forcing Draco to have to cough to hide the laugh that threatened to burst from him. Granger had the benefit of a much darker complexion, but even her blush was dark enough to be evident across her cheeks- Draco was less entertained though, she blushed like a normal person, just in the cheeks, not with her whole body. 

She was smiling with a look that Draco had on his own face far more often than he ever would have expected. A look of being completely high on her own romantic happiness. 

“Hey Granger?” Draco asked, his happiness fading slightly as he geared himself up for the discussion he knew he had to have now. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” 

Harry subtly squeezed his fingers, a silent show of support as Draco lifted himself up to go and talk to Hermione. 

Once alone in the adjoining room Draco paced back and forth for a moment before turning to an expectant Granger. 

“I’ve owed you an apology for a while now.” He said, “I know I treated you awfully. I said things about you and to you that are truly reprehensible and I really and truly am deeply sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you. I know that you’ve struggled to believe that I’m not quite as awful as you think I am and I’m also sorry for how that has played out with Harry and yourself. But I also want you to know that I don’t blame you for reacting how you did to my presence, you have a lot of reason to distrust me and I just hope we can move forward a bit more positively from here. I want to take the time for you to ask anything or clear the air with you, as I should have done when this all first came out.” 

Draco had practiced what he would say with Harry a few times over, but his voice still wavered a little with nerves as he tried to get it out while facing Granger and her intimidating raised brow, hands on hips teacher stance. 

She didn’t react how Draco was expecting though, sighing heavily and taking a seat in an empty armchair. “I should have known you’d be the one to do that first.” 

Draco said nothing, choosing instead to give her the time to get her thoughts in order. 

“I know you said you should have approached me with this earlier, but the truth is I wouldn’t have wanted to hear it. While we were camping or at Grimmauld Place, if you’d have apologised to me or tried to start a dialogue I would have viewed it with hostility and suspicion. The truth is I didn’t think you capable of being a good person, by any stretch of the imagination- I didn’t think anything Harry said about you could be true because I thought I had all the answers. The idea that Harry knew something about you that I didn’t made me angry and it was easier to believe I was right and it was all an elaborate scheme… I know its awful but it was so easy, you were horrible to me, I know you’ve admitted to it but it is hard to accept that two of your core beliefs, that you know everything and that someone is a bad person, are both wrong in one go. So okay. Lets talk. Lets figure this out.”

“Yes, lets.” Draco agreed. 

“You and Harry- you aren’t just friends are you?” She asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to test the waters of their new found honesty system before diving into any more real questions. 

“No we aren’t. I’ve fancied him for ages, loved him even, but actually doing anything about that, that’s been rather recent.”

Hermione nodded, “your turn.”

“Why did you leave Harry? Was it all because of me?”

Hermione lowered her gaze in shame, “no, you were a convenient excuse. I didn’t like you, that was no lie, but I really just felt angry. I was always the one Harry would turn to for the answers, I was the one who would decide what we did and where we went, you and I though, we’re pretty evenly matched for intelligence and when we disagreed Harry didn’t just take my word for it, he would actually seek out your imput. I felt like if my mind was the only think I was valued for, and it wasn’t even what I could offer anymore, that I shouldn’t even bother staying.”

“Harry doesn’t just want you around because you’re smart though! He loves you! As a person, for who you are, you’re not just someone he keeps around to solve his problems- you and Weasley both, you were so afraid to be replaced you let your insecurity hurt everyone around you.”

“I know that. I do, and I’ll apologise to Harry too. I was wrong.”

“Go on then. Your turn.”

Hermione looked at him gratefully, “alright so… Harry says all the arsehole stuff about you was all an act, but so much of what you said to me was so personal. It can’t have all been fake, you specifically targeted me- why?”

“I was jealous.” Draco said honestly, “partly because of your friendship with Harry and partly because… for all of my life I’ve been told that being Pureblood made me special, made me better than everyone else, and I know thats not true, but it was still a blow to everything I knew that you waltzed into Hogwarts with no magical knowledge whatsoever and were so much better than me at everything. I had been given tutoring in Hogwarts subjects for years before I even started at school and you made it all look so easy! I know you studied, and worked hard, but I couldn’t really rationalise it. I was grounded every holiday when I went home for being bested by a muggle born and I really resented you. It wasn’t fair but, as an angry eleven year old you were an easy target of rage. As I said though, I am really sorry, I handled it all awfully.”

“For what its worth” Hermione said, smiling gently, “you put up a hell of a fight for that top spot.”

“Well I could hardly make things too easy for you could I?”

“And you didn’t, I had to work so much harder in classes you were in!”

“So how about we call a truce?” 

“Yeah, sounds good to me”

And shockingly enough, Hermione even pulled him in for a hug, wrapping her arms around him only somewhat awkwardly for a moment before pulling away and saying “I’m glad Harry has you. You’re alright Malfoy.”


	42. Chapter 42

 

“So what have you been doing the last month?” Hermione asked, eventually finding herself unable to contain her curiosity.

“You know, besides each other” Ron snickered.

 

Draco rolled his eyes but willingly launched into the story of where they had been and what they had done in those weeks spent on their own. He told them about Godric’s Hollow and being attacked by Nagini, of the curious way Nagini died- then of the sword in the lake that Harry dove down to retrieve and how they had finally destroyed the locket. He tried to keep the boast out of his voice but he was certain he had failed in his attempt not to sound smug- they had achieved far more in the month without Weasley and Granger than they had in the two months with them, he was genuinely making an effort to make nice with Harry’s fiends, but it felt good to run that point home.

 

“I don’t think you should get complacent here though,” Hermione warned, “its only a theory that they were Horcruxes, we may still have the same number left to destroy. I think we should revise our previous assumptions and consider where we might have overlooked something…” 

 

“No” Harry said, interrupting Hermione as she moved to grab a scrap of parchment to scribble ideas on, “we need to keep moving forward. We know that the locket was definitely a Horcrux and we didn’t think the snake was one until after the locket was destroyed and had reacted the same way- but we had time to think about it, it makes sense that the snake was a Horcurx, and if we’re wrong we’ll deal with that later. For now we need to keep moving forward. If we keep going back and second guessing everything we’ll never get anything done.”

 

Hermione nodded, bowing her head. Now that she was becoming aware of how she had been behaving she was startled to see how often the ugly, jealous side of her personality reared its head. Truthfully, she knew there was nothing wrong with Harry and Draco’s reasoning, and Harry’s argument that for now at least, they should focus on moving forward, was fair. Her recent experience with Draco had humbled her, in a way she hadn’t even realised she needed. She still had a part of her, a part that she was only just starting to actively acknowledge, that insisted they couldn’t possibly have achieved so much without her, that Harry needed her if he was ever going to succeed. It wasn’t a part of herself that she liked looking at, but for the first time she was starting to realise how important it was that she regain control over this side of her. 

 

“The real question,” Harry continued, “is where are the others?”

 

“Well,” Draco began, “So far we have the diary, proof that he was the heir of Slytherin, the ring, proof of who his family were- the one he stole off his freshly murdered grandfather, the locket, a famously Slytherin thing and his snake, also very Slytherin themed… if one is still in him, which I admit is a long shot- I don’t know if there’s even a fragment of a soul left in there, then there’s two left to find before we go after the big guy himself. Something from Ravenclaw and something from Hufflepuff- because he was pretty unlikely to have wanted something of Gryffindor’s.”

 

“How do we know he wouldn’t want something of Gryffindor’s? I bet the scales bastard would have loved to have defiled something of his.” Ron asked.

 

“Because Gryffindor’s most famous relic was a sword, which would be doable, if highly impractical, but the sword famously shows up for any Gryffindor in need. Thats not very secure, if any time a pure hearted Gryffindork on a mission was delivered a piece of the Dark Lord’s soul it could easily be destroyed. These are his most precious possessions, and Gryffindors are the most likely to be the ones coming after them to destroy them. It would be too risky, remember, Slytherins are all about self preservation.”

 

“Okay fair enough” Ron grumbled.

 

“Be that as it may” Hermione said, “we still don’t know what they could be, or where they could be.”

 

“Well Dumbledore reckoned the Hufflepuff thing was that cup…” Harry said, knowing full well that everyone there was already

aware of what Dumbledore had told him last year.

 

“Maybe Ravenclaw’s was her diadem?” Draco suggested.

 

“Her lost diadem? That no one has seen for a thousand years?” Hermione replied, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

 

“If anyone could find it, don’t you think it would be Him?” Draco asked, challenging.

 

“Whatever it is we don’t know where to look! Its all well and good wondering what they might be but if we don’t know where they are its no good to us anyway. And if we have an idea of likely hiding places at least we can have a poke around and see what we find” Harry argued, worried they were about to start circling around old fights.

 

“Well… I had an idea of where one could be” Draco said “My Aunt Bellatrix might have it.”

 

“What makes you think that?”

 

“My father was given the diary to guide and look after until the Dark Lord wanted to use it. Peter Pettigrew was put in charge of looking after Nagini before the Dark Lord could do it himself, back when he was all ‘not quite human- not quite a ghost’-ish. So he’s relied on Death Eaters before to guard his Horcurxes and Bellatrix, as one of his most trusted Death Eaters would be pretty high on the list for someone who might be given one.”

 

“So what? We just knock on the door of your crazy Aunt’s house and hope she hands over a piece of her precious master’s soul? I mean, I’m sure their house is pretty big and we don’t even know what we would be looking for…. getting caught by Bellatrix Lestrange or her husband wouldn’t end well for any of us, at least when we broke into the ministry the aurora have some restrictions on what they were allowed to do to us.” Ron asked.

 

“Bellatrix and Rodolphus are more than likely effectively homeless actually. They’ve been in Azkaban for pretty much as long as any of us have been alive, and after the first war the Lestrange family sold off a lot of properties, including the one owned by Bellatrix and Rodolphus in an attempt to save face when the ministry was cracking down on Death Eaters. Most likely they are staying as guests at various different Death Eater homes, or they have taken up residence permanently in Malfoy manor. As much as mother would hate having her there, she wouldn’t be able to deny her own sister sanctuary, and its not as if Bellatrix would have any issue forcing her company on people.”

 

“Alright so where is it then? She wouldn’t cart it around in her purse!” Hermione snapped, her curiosity mounting.

 

“Its in her vault” Ron said, the answer dawning on him, “the goblins stay neutral in wizarding wars so they wouldn’t have a problem letting the Lestranges come and go as they please, no matter how wanted they are. Its the safest place in the wizarding world as it is, and the Lestranges would be rich enough to have theist security there. If they spent that long in prison, it would be the only place they’d be able to trust to keep it I reckon… which for us means its completely impossible to get it.” 

 

“I’m not so sure…” Draco started.

 

“No” Hermione interrupted, “absolutely not, we have pulled off some incredible things but no one has ever broken into Gringotts before- ever! Its literally impossible”

 

Draco’s face split into a wide, self satisfied smirk as he took a moment to be horribly pleased with himself- Harry laughed, “go on you massive prat and just tell us your plan.”

 

Blowing a quick and delightfully sarcastic kiss, Draco laughed into his idea “I am Bellatrix’s heir, her and her husband have no children, nor did Rabastian Rodolphus’ brother, so I’m set to inherit their estate, since for obvious reasons Andromeda’s daughter is not an appropriate candidate…”

 

“You’re going to inherit the Malfoy and Lestrange estates?”

 

“That’s right Weasley, I’m going to be ludicrously wealthy. Almost as wealthy as Harry once he gets his hands on the full Black accounts and the Potter ones.”

 

“Regardless, you can’t just walk in- you’re her heir, but you can’t get in there unsupervised unless she and her husband are dead, so that doesn’t help us now- unless you’re planning on killing them”

 

“I wasn’t thinking that at all but well done Granger, who would have thought you had it in you to be so violent! I was thinking of just using some of her hair that got stuck on my robes and have you pretend to be her taking me down there, it would make sense since its not the first time she’s taken me to see them. The goblins wouldn’t question it.”

 

“I didn’t know you had her hairs” Hermione grumbled. 

***

By now the gang were becoming old hands at planning ridiculous and dangerous plots. They put their heads together and, honestly, the knowledge of how crazy and impossible their plan was, was enough for them to put their differences aside for a while and actually try to work together.

It was Harry, more than anyone, who really saw the difference in the group dynamic. As the only person who loved everyone gathered, it warmed his heart to see them putting in the effort to be civil to one another.

Which wasn’t to say they were overly successful in their attempts at civility, Ron and Draco were still first and foremost Ron and Draco and they still snapped and swiped at one another but remarkably quickly their shared desire to move on from their animosity turned their sharp comments and aggressive tendencies morphed into banter and a sense of almost friendly competitiveness.

Hermione and Draco were less quick to come to a peaceful coexistence, with both of them frequently rubbing the other the wrong way, but Harry was amazed to see that Hermione seemed to be actively trying to be more aware of the way she tended to steamroll people. The sight of Draco’s mangled body, the fracturing in one of her most cherished friendships and the acknowledgement that maybe she wasn’t always the smartest person in the room were finally dawning on her. She was still quick to dismiss Draco’s ideas, and Draco in turn was still a bit too smug whenever his ideas were better, but Harry swelled with pride that they were even willing to try. Even that much was unthinkable a few short weeks ago.

And so they arrived, armed with what was probably the most meticulously thought out plan that Harry had ever done anything with and set to work, each of them seamlessly following their preplanned instructions and roles.

Hermione was under Polyjuice potion as Bellatrix, her being the one who unfortuantley had to assume Bellatrix’s crazed persona. She was the closest to her stature and the boys would have been far too awkward and uncomfortable to ever pull off Bellatrix’s aristocratic grace without giving themselves away. As they departed Draco had a brief moment of panice seeing his aunt who had so gleefully mangled him only days ago. His body was still tight with tension being near her, but fortunately it gave him a bit more of that stiff Pureblood posture that had started to relax due to all of Harry’s influence.

Ron and Harry were together, crouched low under the protective cover of the invisibility cloak as Draco and Hermione strutted proudly into the bank.

Passing under the threshold and walking by, invisible to the view of the Goblins, Harry felt immediately the weight of what they were trying to do. No one, in the history of Gringotts bank, or indeed of Wizarding Britain itself, for the bank was nearly as ancient, had ever successfully accomplished what they were about to attempt. There had to be a certain amount of arrogance, he mused, that they felt they even stood a chance in this pursuit when so many had failed before them. Were they really any better? Was their plan really one that no one had thought of before?

Harry shook his head, whatever happened next, anxiety wouldn’t be helpful, he just had to concentrate and hope for the best. He willed his breathing to return to an even pace.

Draco was fortunate in that he was an accomplished and well practiced Occlumens. He had plenty of time before leaving to clear his mind and make sure that none of his nerves showed on his face. Instead of the heavy breathing and the embarrassing amount of sweating he might have done had been leen less in control, he glid gracefully through the halls of the bank, unwilling to let even the smallest flicker of emotion cross his face. He wore a familiar mask of boredom, pretending that every single person or goblin he encountered was deeply inconvenient and irritating. His father would have been so proud if only he had worn that expression in a more socially appropriate setting than a bank robbery.

Marching decisively up to the goblin waiting to serve them Draco demanded to stop into his vault, while Hermione, under disguise as his dutiful chaperone of an aunt, picked at her nails and huffed impatiently as they asked to see Draco’s wand.

The foursome were led to the carts which twisted and turned on their long journey down through to the Malfoy vaults. As per Draco’s suggestion, they didn’t go straight down to the high security vaults, stopping first in Draco’s personal vault, which held the petty cash he was allowed to play with until he inherited the proper vault’s contents- this meant they wouldn’t go through the magical curtain which would wash away their disguises. They needed their goblin to grow impatient and sloppy in his work.

Draco was in his element.

“You know, this is only a temporary vault, and its certainly no skin off our noses what happens to it- but really, the stat of it is truly appauling. Have you no pride in your work sir?” Draco drolled to the goblin.

“Mr. Malfoy, we make every effort to ensure all our vaults, particularly those of our more prestigious customers are of the highest standards available. I don’t know what else you could be asking for.”

“Its just rather dull isn’t it? Aunty?”

“Terribly dull” Hermione agreed, barely looking around the room, though internally she was gaping at the piles of coins of various sizes that Draco so flippantly dismissed as ‘play money’. She felt a pang of sympathy for Ron beaneath the invisibility cloak.

The goblin sighed, “I will make sure to have your suggestion taken under advisement, to have the vault made…. Less dull.”

“See?” Draco said, “was that so hard?”

The goblin said nothing.

But unforutnatley for him, Draco had spent the majority of his life being an annoying brat. He was truly a master of the artform. He continued. “Now who can I speak to about changing how all this is organised?”

“Organised sir?” The goblin asked, staring at the mountains of coins piled up haphazardly around the room.

“Yes! Organised! Its all such a mess. I say we have all the coins organised by value, put the knuts at the very back, they don’t make for a very good impression coming in do they? They’re so worthless they’re almost not worth having… almost. I want the Galleons at the front, piled high and ordered by the date they were minted. Then the sickles, organised by diameter- I know they’re all supposed to be the same size, but we all know there are barely perceptible tiny differences and it would give me great peace of mind to know that they’re organisation reflected such differences. That won’t be a problem will it?” He asked, pacing around the room and gesturing wildly to the walls and general surrounds to the goblin.

“If such is Mr Malfoy’s wishes we will do our best to accommodate.”

“Excellent.” Draco said, before clapping his hands together with enthusiasm, “Oh! I’ve just had a splendid new idea for the knuts! We should line the floor with them! Wouldn’t that be clever aunty?”

“Enough Draco!” Hermione snapped, “I’m getting terribly bored with all this. Lets go before you decide to do something completely stupid like have every coin individually polished by a different elf.”

“There’s an idea!”

“No!”

The goblin looked like he cold have kissed her, and Hermione thought privately that that may have been the first time in a long time that anyone looked at Bellatrix Lestrange with such open affection.

“Before we do go though Draco, I need to pop down to my vault quickly.” She turned to the goblin, “that won’t be a problem will it?”

The goblin gestured with a low bow for the ‘pair’ of them to get back in the cart while he locked Draco’s vault, promising once more to make sure his ‘redesigns’ were passed on to the relevant people to “make my vision a reality before I am here next”, as Draco so brattily put it.

The cart descended deeper through the warren of vaults and tunnels that stretched far below London’s intricate underground network. As they continued to travel further down Harry glimpsed the ripples in the air further ahead, the theif’s downfall. He held his wand pointed at the goblin to be ready the second Hermione’s disguise lifted.

It happened all at once, Hermione’s natural curls fizzed out from Bellatrix’s tamer waves, her skin darkened and she shrank down a couple of inches as Bellatrix’s hourglass curves melted away to reveal Hermione’s leaner figure beneath the flowing dark robes. Before he could even blink Harry cast a confundus charm on the goblin giving Hermione a moment to take a second dose of Polyjuice potion and she morphed once again back into the appearance of the infamous Death Eater.

 

The goblin turned back to the group, not noticing that anything had transpired during his moment of inattention.

 

He pulled the carriage to a grinding halt and escorted Hermione out graciously. “Your wand madam?”

 

“My wand? What do you need my wand for?” Hermione snapped, keeping up her impression- Draco wanted to groan out loud, Bellatrix would be very familiar with the security proceedings of the bank and if Hermione showed how frazzled she was she was seriously at risk of exposing all of them.

 

“Come on” He groaned dramatically, trying to divert attention “we just went though all of this upstairs. You’ve vouched for my identity and she’s here as my guardian, surely we can do away with all this rubbish”.

 

It was a risky move, though Purebloods had a reputation for being bratty well beyond the point of being unreasonable, they were fiercely protective of their riches and wouldn’t be quick to turn their noses up at security designed to protect them. But Draco had firmly established his act as a complete nightmare to the goblin so maybe he’d buy it.

 

He held a hand behind his back to gesture to Harry and Ron to hold off, but be prepared to intervene should the goblin become too suspicious.

 

“I must insist on verifying Madam’s identity sir.” The goblin widened his stance, preparing for further arguments from Draco.

 

As Draco dropped his ‘halt’ gesture, Harry took over.

 

“Imperio” he whispered, his voice dropped low.

 

The goblin’s eyes glazed over and though there was no immediate sign that he noticed what was happening Harry had practiced with Ron, Hermione and Draco, and knew how to keep his influence subtle.

 

_You’re so tired, sick of these wizards and their disrespect. You already have on good authority that this is Mrs. Lestrange. You really can’t be bothered to check her wand…_

 

“I really should check” the goblin muttered, almost to himself.

 

_Who would know though? Mrs. Lestrange is impatient and wants to get going, she would hardly report you for making her life easier._

 

“I don’t know…”

 

_Just let her in. What’s the worst that could happen?_

 

“Sacked” he mused, his voice barely a whisper as he replied to the voice in his head.

 

_But you hate your job here. Always tending to wizards and their horrible ways. It would be so much better to do something else, something with only other goblins. Being sacked wouldn’t be so bad. You’re good at so many other things. You’re wasted here._

 

“Why wait to get sacked. Could just quit. Could finally write that book” he said, liking the idea.

 

_You could write so many books!_

 

“Mrs Lestrange, go on in, I’ll just wait outside.”

 

The door to the vault opened and the others entered quickly as Harry stayed outside to hold on to the spell on the goblin. He listened, bewildered, to the rest of the goblin’s thoughts as Ron snuck out from under the invisibility cloak to join the search party.

 

To say the vault was opulent would have been a huge understatement. Piles of gold rose well to the ceiling, towering high above them and surrounding every inch of the available space. They couldn’t even see the walls to get an idea of how big the vault was, but Draco knew it would extend much further back than any of them had time to search through.

 

“Alright everyone, just remember, DO NOT touch anything but the Horcrux. There is a lot of protective magic in this vault and it will know if you’re trying to steal something. Once we find the Horcrux we won’t have long to get out of here so we will have to move quickly.” Draco instructed.

 

“How will we know if we find it though?” Ron asked, his eyes bulging wide at the sight of the room around him.

 

“Just look for a cup or a tiara, those are the most likely things. If we don’t find either of them we’ll just leave and re-evaluate somewhere safer. We only get one chance at this.”

 

The search was extensive, but as Draco suspected the cup was found at the very back of the vault, piled high on a mountain of jewels, gold and other treasures. They would have to climb high up onto that mountain to get the cup, forcing them to touch and face the consequences of their theft.

 

Ron, Hermione and Draco lined up at the base of the mountain, preparing to all charge up at the same time, thus increasing the likelihood that one of them would get it before whatever happened next got them.

 

All Draco knew was that it wouldn’t be pretty.

 

On Hermione’s count, The group took off, before intently being flooded with a wave of scalding hot fools gold that rained down from the ceiling.

 

They fought their way furiously, their clothes and skin burning as they struggled beneath the extreme heat and the crushing weight of the metal that continued to pummel them.

 

Draco’s skin was singed red with burs and his robes were covered in holes as the soles of his shoes began to melt as he pushed himself to go just a bit further.

 

In the end it was Ron who got it.

 

Not even bothered that he had been beaten to the Horcurx, Draco breathed a sigh of relief that he was able to turn and race for the door. Hermione’s pained shrieks and his and Ron’s gasps and groans of pain were echoing through the room and tears flooded Draco’s eyes as the pain began to overwhelm him.

 

Not much further to go.

 

Just a bit more.

 

His vision was starting to blur around the edges and he considered for the first time that he might actually die right here, in the middle of his aunt’s vault, burned and crushed to death like any number of previous thieves at Gringotts.

 

As he started to lose the ability to move his limbs he heard Weasley shout to him “Oh no. Not today Malfoy, Harry would never forgive me if I didn’t bring you back to him in one piece.” Weasley’s strong arms pulled him the extra few feet through the door where he collapsed in a heap on the gloriously cool outside.

 

Harry came racing back around the corner a few moments later.

 

“Come on guys we have to run!”

 

“Run? No we take the cart back up, that’s the plan!” Shouted Hermione, now resembling much more Bellatrix right after she came out of Azkaban with her hair all singed and steaming and her clothes falling to pieces around her.

 

“Yeah, thats out the window” Harry said, “The goblin left, decided to quit his job, he’s going to farm mandrakes and write the next great book of Gobeldigook poetry- I really hope he does well for himself it sounds like he’s very passionate about it. Anyway he stormed off told off all the there goblins for serving wizards and how it was all crap and stormed out of the bank. Then I think one of you must have triggered the alarm, though by the looks of you lot it seems like a lot went down for you too so we’ll get into that soon. They all started running around and there’s a bunch of goblins on the way to get you and we need to get out.” Harry explained in one long breath.

 

“How are we going to do that?” Hermione asked.

 

“Well you see, I have a bit of a dangerous and stupid idea” Harry said.

 

Draco groaned loudly, “I hate your dangerous and stupid ideas! UGH but I don’t have any sane ones so go on, what is it?”

 

“Well on my way down here I saw this dragon…”


	43. Chapter 43

Harry and the others ran at full speed, followed closely by a gang of angry goblins, around the corner where Harry led to a giant dragon. 

 

The dragon was chained, its wings folded by its sides as the room in which it was contained was too small for it to extend them away from its body. The body of the dragon was pale, bleached white from the darkness it must have been contained in for years. As a child Draco had always been fascinated by the bright scales of the various species of dragon and the sight of this one, with its head bowed low and body so pale and fragile was deeply troubling. 

Harry fired his wand as he always did, with precise and fierce determination. In an instant, the binds that imprisoned the mighty beast were broken as Harry continued to charge.

 

 _Oh fuck_ Draco thought as he sprinted after his ridiculous raven haired boyfriend, _this really is a stupid idea_.

 

He decided it might be a sign that he knew Harry far too well that he had clicked so quickly what Harry was thinking, but the equation was so classic Harry Potter that there was no way he could have not known right away. They needed a brave, completely odds defying stunt to get them out of serious danger, and there was a creature being treated poorly who Harry would want to save. Two birds, one stone. It would all make sense in Harry’s reckless brain, but Draco doubted he considered the reality of what RIDING A FUCKING DRAGON would entail. There was a reason dragon riders were so revered and admired by children, it was difficult and dangerous. And oh Merlin, he was already climbing on. 

 

_Fucking hell_

 

Though, Draco knew, truthfully, that he was rather bad at getting out of tight spots. He rarely had the nerve to pull of crazy stunts that slip him just through the cracks of being in trouble. Harry, on the other hand, had an unbelievably high batting average against impossible situations. So, against his better judgement, and alongside Granger and Weasley, Draco climbed on board an actual fucking dragon. 

 

Collectively the group blasted walls out of their way and generally caused a huge amount of damage to the bank as they took flight. The dragon, sensing this might be its one chance to free itself, shot out a huge plume of fire and roared threateningly at the goblins who surrounded it. They took flight, quickly gaining ground away from the bank. 

 

A few minutes later Ron broke the silence among them by laughing loudly, his hysterical giggles being heard over the roar of the wind in their ears. 

 

“We just robbed Gringotts” He gasped, unable to believe the reality of the sentence. 

 

And they had. 

 

They’d robbed a bank, THE bank, the bank that no one in the history of the country had ever done successfully. They had broken in, stolen a piece of the most evil and powerful wizard in the world’s soul and escaped on a kidnapped dragon. Draco joined in laughing, and soon they were all laughing, completely floored by what they had just pulled off. 

 

The hysterical high stayed with them as the dragon beat its wings and propelled them further and further away from its prison, the cities below them speeding past and disappearing before Draco could get any real idea of where they were. It wasn’t until hours later that the cold indicated the dragon was heading north. 

 

“Harry!” Draco called, shouting over the wind, “How far are we going to ride this thing?”

 

“I don’t know, hadn’t thought that far” Harry confessed.

 

“Want to have a think about it now?”

 

“How about this far?” Harry suggested, the cheeky git.

 

Draco rolled his eyes but nodded anyway. Harry turned his body, keeping his grip strong on the dragon below him as he shouted to Hermione.

 

“I am not jumping off a dragon Harry!!” She shrieked. As the only one in the group who wasn’t a seasoned Quiddich player she showed a far more obvious discomfort with being so high up in the air. Draco himself wasn’t thrilled about the idea of plummeting to the ground from this high up, but so long as the dragon was firmly below them, he was okay. Hermione, less so. 

She had her face buried in Ron’s back as she gripped onto him for dear life, refusing to even chance a look at the view from the sky, or at the ground below. 

 

“You know cushioning charms though don’t you?” Harry asked, adorably confused. 

 

“Cushioning charms?” Hermione gasped, horrified, “all the cushioning charms in the world won’t soften the blow from falling this high up! We’d be lucky to land with our lives, forget keeping our bones in tact!”

 

“Alright, alright,” Harry conceded, raising his hands in surrender, “what do you reckon we do?”

 

Hermione thought for a moment before groaning audibly and saying “I think we might be able to slow our descent. If we jump off and slow it down, we won’t impact harshly… oh but we will be floating down- like a slow motion sky dive…” Her brows scrunched together, desperately looking for another solution.

 

Draco raised his eyebrows at Weasley, gesturing to the very distressed Granger in his arms, honestly, was the boy completely useless? 

 

Fortunately Ron got the hint, after much awkward gesturing from Draco (who privately decided that given how much assistance he had given that relationship, it would only be fair for them to name their first born Draco). 

 

“Hermione, you can do this. You are so amazing and so talented, there is literally no one else I would trust to get us to the ground safely. I know you’re scared of heights, but we’ll be here and you can hang on to me, you don’t even have to look, I’ll be here and I won’t let anything happen to you. But neither will you, you’re far too talented to let any of us get hurt doing this, I know the only reason you even suggested it was because you knew you were capable, so come on Hermione, help us down?” Ron said, his eyes disgustingly earnest as he stared at the girl in his arms.

 

(Draco decided really it ought to be two children he got named after himself)

 

Unfortunately for them Hermione really didn’t have a chance to worry about it any further. As she was debating with herself and attempting to bite her entire bottom lip off, Harry’s face had gone shockingly pale. His eyes rolled back in his head and without warning, his grip slackened and he fell sideways from the dragon.

 

Draco shouted in alarm as he saw Harry’s body start plummeting to the ground. 

 

Hermione was quick into action, throwing the spell immediately to bring Harry’s free fall to a soft float to the ground, grabbing Ron’s hand, and not even needing to encourage Draco at all, they jumped from the dragon, desperately trying to catch up to their friend. 

Hermione slowed their fall only once Draco had grabbed a hold of Harry. They landed with a heavy thud that reverberated through Draco’s body and made his teeth click together painfully- though luckily, nowhere near as hard as Harry would have landed without Hermione’s intervention. 

 

“Thank you Granger” Draco panted, his eyes still locked on Harry’s unconscious body. 

 

They really, really needed to stop nearly dying in front of one another, Draco decided. Honestly, it was going to turn him prematurely grey.

 

He took a minute to find Harry’s pulse and reassure himself that he was still breathing normally, before gently trying to shake him awake. It did nothing. He ran his fingers comfortingly through his ragged and messed hair, also to no response. 

 

“Its one of his visions” Ron told him, recognising the symptoms after years of spending a dorm with Harry. “He’ll wake up soon, but you kind of just have to let it run it’s course.”

 

“He was doing Occlumency though, this hasn’t happened in ages” Draco protested, shaking his head. He knew how much the visions upset Harry, and hated the thought of Harry being locked in one now, but he had calmed down slightly- Weasley was right, if it was a vision,

 

Harry would wake soon and he would be okay.

 

He reminded himself of that a few times over before Harry finally opened his eyes.

As soon as his green eyes fluttered open from beneath his thick black lashes, he turned and rolled away from his friends, needing a few moments more to process what he had just seen.

 

“He knows” he whispered by way of explanation.

 

“Knows what? Harry, what’s going on?” Draco demanded, trying to get Harry’s attention.

 

“He knows what we’re doing. He found out about the robbery of Bellatrix’s vault, he’s gone looking for the others. One of them is at Hogwarts, we have to get there before he does.”

 

“Alright” Draco declared, pulling Harry up, “whats the plan?”

 

“We’ll alert the Order, He’s rallying up his Death Eaters and I don’t think whatever he has planned for Hogwarts is going to be pretty. So, Draco… I think Ron, Hermione and I need to go to Hogwarts and find this last piece and destroy it. But you need to stay here.” Harry said, gently caressing the back of Draco’s hand with his thumb. He looked up at him, his green eyes pleading with Draco silently, but he didn’t understand, he’d been a help to Harry for months now, did he not trust him when things got too serious?

 

“What do you mean stay here? Why would I stay here?” Draco asked.

 

“Draco… They’re bringing the Death Eaters, all people who will be actively wanting to kill you… it would be so much safer for you to sit this one out…” Harry said, dropping his gaze, unable to look Draco in the eye as he confessed to his fears.

 

“Sit this out? Are you kidding me Harry? The Death Eaters probably want me dead I’ll grant you, but they want you dead a damn sight more!”

 

“I’ll have half the Order willing to protect me and help me. If I’m in too much of a bind they would be willing to help me. I trust them to help me, to help Ron and Hermione if they need it but I don’t trust that they would protect you. I would be the only one out there watching your back and I won’t be able to. If there’s too much going on and too many of them I couldn’t live with myself if I wasn’t there to protect you. The Order is full of wonderful people and I really respect a lot of them but I don’t trust that they’ll look beyond your name, beyond Lucius Malfoy’s son to see you- if anything bad happened to you half of them would see it as justice served.” Harry said, his voice growing strained and panicked the more he spoke.

 

It occurred to Hermione, as she guiltily listened to her friend’s fears spill from him, that she would have been one of those people. If something had happened to Draco, she would have been sad for Harry, sympathetic to the fact that he was upset, but she wouldn’t have concerned herself at all with Draco. As much as she wanted to defend the honour of the Order members, she knew Harry was right. Too many of them would see Draco as being a lost cause. Not worth saving. At best some might see him as a bargaining chip to keep Lucius and Narcissa in line.

 

Draco knew he was right, of course he did, but he couldn’t help the swell of anger that rose up inside him. “I know full well that most people don’t think I’m worth shit. I have been aware of that for years. Despite what everyone believes about me, I have never been arrogant because I thought I was better than anyone, I was a dickhead, I know that, but do you have any idea how much of it was because I knew at the end of the day that I was the only person in the world who would ever stand up for myself.

 

My friends, they might have defended me against some schoolyard crap but anything real and they would protect themselves first. My parents, I don’t remember what happened in the manor but I can hazard a guess that judging by the fact that they weren’t brought back to the Weasley’s with us they didn’t exactly stand their ground to defend me. You are surrounded by people who love you Harry, I’m not. I am used to having to defed myself, to look out for myself and to make decisions for myself.

 

And now I have you… and you’re the most important person in the world to me and there’s no way in hell I’m going to sit around waiting to find out if you even survived. I know you Harry, you’re so obsessed with making sure everyone gets out okay that you would risk yourself in a heart beat- even when sometimes you don’t need to. You need me there. You need a Slytherin to counter all this bullshit Gryffindorishness of all of you lot patting yourselves on the back for a job well done when you sacrifice yourself- sometimes you can help someone without hurting yourself too. Sometimes there is another option that you just don’t think of in your desperate

attempt to throw yourself in with both feet without looking. You say you wouldn’t be able to cope if something happened to me, that’s very sweet and so very Harry and I’m really not trying to make light of how hard it would be for you. But put yourself in my shoes. Think of how completely devastated you would be if you stayed safe and sound far away while I went off to do something crazily dangerous. You would be completely destroyed over it. Just as I would be. Whatever happens Harry I need to know that I did whatever I could.

 

So no. I will not stay behind and you can’t make me.”

 

Without another word Harry pulled Draco in for a scorching kiss. His hands knotted furiously in Draco’s hair and despite Ron and Hermione still being very much in the vicinity, Harry’s tongue plunged urgently into Draco’s willing mouth. The pair clung desperately to each other, unwilling to let go and determined to prove their feelings in ways they just couldn’t do verbally, no matter how eloquently phrased.

 

When they finally broke apart, as explosively as they had come together, they were both panting, with wild, hungry looks in their eyes as they seemed to size the other up and take stock of their chances at changing the other’s mind.

 

Harry relented “okay. Come with us. But I swear to God, Merlin and whoever the bloody hell else will listen that if you get hurt I will absolutely not be held responsible for my actions.”

Draco smiled at his bittersweet victory, “I love you too Harry. And I won’t worry, I’m sure

Granger and Weasley over there would keep you in line.”

 

“Or you could just be as Slytherin as you possibly can about making sure you’re alright”

 

“I’ll see what I can do.”


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! We are really getting towards the pointy end of the story now and I just want to take a minute to say a massive thank you to everyone who has been commenting and leaving kudos- you guys are phenomenal. Even if you haven't and you've just been quietly enjoying from the slide lines, your support has been so lovely! Thank you all x

Apparating directly into Hogsmeade wasn’t the brightest idea that any of them had ever had. But as soon as Harry had tucked the little fragment of the mirror back into his pocket after speaking to Remus he was all action, common sense wasn’t really a filter he paid much attention to- Hermione and Draco were still struggling to get their bearings of the situation and thus, unfortunately, the voices of reason were not consulted before they jumped in with both feet. Remus assured Harry that the Order would be mobilised and behind him shortly, and that was all he had needed to hear. Grabbing firmly onto Draco’s hand he gave the plan to Ron and Hermione and the group took off, meeting at Hogsmeade station.

Of course, the point that no one seemed to consider was that going to Hogsmeade was a rather obvious destination for them. 

The moment the crack of their apparation sounded through the sleepy village, it was joined with a wailing scream that echoed loudly all around them. Every hair on the back of Harry’s neck stood to attention as his body tightened, ready for action. Draco kept a firm grip on him, refusing to allow any Gryffindor instincts to cause him to exit the safety of the cloak cover- he hoped Harry wasn’t thinking of doing it, but the fact that it wouldn’t be out of character was enough for Draco to keep his hold. 

Ron and Hermione though, were vulnerable, they were under a heavy dissilousinment charm, and were relatively invisible, but the tell-tale shimmer of the air around them would tip off anyone who came looking for the source of the screaming that there was an intruder among them. A simple ‘finite’ and they would be exposed. 

They had to move. 

In the distance, the door to the Three Broomsticks burst open and a dozen cloaked Death Eaters dashed into the street, their wands held tightly, ready to strike at the teenagers they had been told to expect. 

“Accio Cloak!” one of them shouted, his hand already outstretched to catch the garment concealing Potter. 

Harry and Draco seased the sides of the fabric in an instant, but luckily for them it didn’t budge. That was handy to know in future. 

“Keep looking, he can be hidden in other ways” Another Death Eater instructed as the group fanned out. 

Ron and Hermione were keeping to the shadows, where their presence would be less obvious, but Draco was keeping a keen eye out to keep tabs on their location. They weaved silently between a pair of Death Eaters, only a hair’s breath from discovery. It was all much too close for comfort. As soon as they passed the Death Eaters and were at a safe distance, the couple broke off into a run, Harry and Draco followed. 

Hermione and Draco were nothing if not resourceful and as they ran they frantically cast spells, ensuring their gang was safely shrouded beneath silencing charms featherweight charms to keep their footsteps from leaving impressions in the snow and any other enchantment they could think of to keep themselves undiscovered. The continued wailing of the alarm continued and their ears were ringing painfully as the alarm continued to blaze around them, unrelenting until Harry was out of Hogsmeade. 

“We have to disapparate!” Draco said, “we’ll come back later but this hasn’t worked and we’re fucking sitting ducks out here!” 

“We can’t just go back…” Harry said, hesitant.

“We bloody well can and we have to Harry, they know we’re here- there’s no way we’ll get to the castle now.” Ron argued, his voice not quite able to reach the same levels of quietness as Draco’s. 

Harry opened his mouth to speak again but Draco cut him off, “no arguments, we’re going.   
Three, two, one!”

They spun on the spot. 

Nothing happened.

“Harry? Malfoy?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, we’re still here too” Harry confirmed.

“Damn. Why can’t we apparate?”

“They’ve probably blocked apparation in and out of Hogsmeade now that they know Harry is here” Hermione reasoned with a groan. The only thing worse than a Death Eater, she decided, was a competent Death Eater. 

“Dementors!” One of the Death Eaters called out to the others excitedly “Let the dementors get ‘em first!”

“We can’t kill ‘im, the Dark Lord wants Potter alive!” one of the others protested, Harry decided that so far, this one was his favourite. 

“And a dementor ain’t gonna kill ‘im will they? It’ll just make catching the bugger a damn sight easier” more murmurs of agreement.

As they argued, one of them must have taken the initiative just to summon the dementor because Harry felt the air around them become noticeably colder and he could feel the despair that accompanied their presence settle deeper into his stomach. They were on their way.

“What are we going to do?” Harry hissed, his breath visible in front of him in the confinds of the cloak, “if I cast a patronus it will be obvious where we are, and that they’re right about who we are”

“We can’t just let them take our souls though” Draco snapped, “so we will just have to be found and deal with that from there, we don’t have another option. One of you can just cast the damn thing!”

“We can’t though” Hermione countered, “I’m not the best at doing the Patronus charm under the best of circumstances, but Ron and my patronus are a matter of public record, I’m sure the Death Eaters are well aware what to look out for. A jack Russell or an otter would be almost as incriminating at the moment as a stag”

“Not quite as incriminating as a stag, besides, I’m sure loads of people have a dog patronus! Go on Weasley.” Draco demanded.

Ron shook his head (not that Draco could see it) “I can’t! You do it Malfoy, you’re always acting like you’re cleverer than everyone, time to prove it!”

“I’ve never cast one before” Draco admitted, “I don’t even know if I could!”

Harry turned to Draco, cradling his face in his hands, “you can do this. I’ll explain how.”  
Draco’s stomach plummeted, and he shook his head in panic.

“Draco, you can control fiendfyre, you can defend yourself against Death Eaters and you just helped to rob Gringotts- no one has ever done that before ever! I know you can do this too. Can you please give it a go for us and if you can’t do it, if you really can’t then we’ll say fuck it and I’ll just do it and we’ll figure out what to do.”

Draco swallowed his nerves, he hated this brave Gryffindor shit but damn it the alternative was worse than being corrupted by their sickeningly noble influence. “Tell me how.”

Harry beamed proudly at Draco and gave him a quick run down of the spell “focus on something happy, memories work the best because you can reexperience them and feel how you did when you were that happy, but you can think of something else. You just need to make yourself feel that joy through your whole body, let it fill you up until its all you can think about and then cast the spell. Expecto Patronum.”

“Yes, well, remembering the spell isn’t the difficult part of the whole thing is it? And how am I supposed to be completely filled with joy when there are dementors, Dark Lords and Death Eaters all after us at the exact same time?” Draco asked, his voice getting more shrill as he spoke. 

Harry pulled him in for a deep kiss, gently caressing Draco’s jaw as his lips slowly moved against his, “so concentrate on after, when all this is done.”

Draco’s head immediately filled with possibilities, ones that he had been actively trying to avoid thinking about for fear it would never happen- he thought about getting to spend a whole day flying freely with Harry, of getting to tell Harry he loves him every night, maybe finding a flat of their own where they could be just the two of them every night. In short, his mind filled with thoughts of Harry… Harry who was so sweet, so brave and caring and kind, Harry who was undoubtedly to good for him but loved him anyway.

Draco pulled Harry close against him one more time, brushing his lips softly against Harry’s and whispering “I love you.”

“I love you too” Harry whispered back, his hand coming down to squeeze Draco’s reassuringly.

Taking a deep breath Draco concentrated, “Expecto Patronum!” 

Later, when Harry had more time to think back over that night he would take the time to be appropriately impressed with the feat Draco pulled off. 

On his first try producing a corporeal patronus was amazing magic.

Draco’s little hedgehog walked right up to the dementors and scared them all away, as if it were a fearsome beast rather than an adorable garden animal.

“A hedgehog!” Ron laughed, deciding he was very glad for the opporuntity to make fun of Draco rather than have to thank him for saving their asses. 

Draco looked horrified at the little…. Rodent. Oh Merlin. His patronus is a rodent. He didn’t think he would ever live it down.

Harry snickered at the expression on Draco’s face, “hey, be grateful its not a ferret.”

Draco had never in his entire life looked quite so betrayed.

“Come on love, its adorable!” Harry said, trying to cheer his gorgeous boyfriend up for a minute, and trying deperately to reign in the laughter that threatened to bubble out.

“I don’t want to be adorable!”

“It makes sense you know… you’re all sharp and prickly on the outside, but when someone gets up close you’re all gorgeous and loveable!”

Draco rolled his eyes “shut up Potter.”

They didn’t have time to stay and tease Draco any more though as the footsteps of the foiled Death Eaters grew louder as they approached. Now angry that their plan with the dementors had failed they stormed angrily, no longer even bothering to come up with a plan, just every man for himself as they hunted down the pesky teenagers. 

They knew vaguely where they were now and were running full speed, many of them firing spells at random hoping that one of them would hit someone in the chaos. Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione backed up, pressing themselves agains the wall of the building nearest to them, hoping to avoid detection.

Before Harry’s panicked mind could come up with a plan, any plan- there was a grinding of bolts nearby and a door opened to the building they were hidden against.

A rough voice snapped quickly “Potter, in here, quick!”

He obeyed without hesitation and the four of them piled through the open doorway. 

“Upstairs, keep the cloak on and keep quiet” instructed the tall figure, passing them on his way to the street and slamming the door behind him. 

After some muffled arguing from outside the man returned, sighing to himself and grunted “I know whose there you know, may as well drop those enchantments you’ve got if you want my help”

Without a discussion, Harry pulled off the cloak and saw Ron and Hermione materialise back into view beside him. 

The sight of the trio didn’t seem to phase the old man, the only sign that Draco caught him by surprise was by the ever so slight incline of his eyebrow when he noticed the blond. He said nothing. 

“You bloody fools” the man grumbled, barely addressing them directly, “what were you thinking, coming here? You honestly didn’t think they’d expect you?”

“Thank you for your help,” Harry said, “really, we were so close to being caught out there.”

“Yeah well,” The man said gruffly, awkward under Harry’s gratitude, “didn’t do much”.

“You’re Aberforth Dumbledore?” Draco asked, finally recognising the man who saved them.

“And you’re Draco Malfoy” the old man replied.

“Wait… Dumbledore? As in..?” Harry trailed of, not quite wanting to voice what he was thinking.

“As in Albus’ younger brother- that will be the one, yeah.” Aberforth confirmed.

Harry’s brows knitted together, he had no idea Dumbledore had a brother, yet alone one who lived so close by. In fact, Harry knew almost nothing about the late headmaster’s family or history… the thought unsettled him.

An awkward silence desended among them, with no one quite knowing the next thing to say. Finally Aberforth spoke up, “Right then, we need to think of the best way to get you out of here. Can’t be done by night, you heard what happens if anyone moves outdoors during darkness: Caterwauling Charm’s set off, they’ll be on to you like Bowtruckles on Doxy eggs. Wait for daybreak, when curfew lifts, then you can put your Cloak back on and set out on foot. Get right out of Hogsmeade, up into the mountains, and you’ll be able to disapparate there. Might see Hagrid. He’s been hiding in a cave up there with Grawp ever since they tried to arrest him.”

“We’re not leaving,” said Harry. “We need to get into Hogwarts.”

“Don’t be stupid, boy,” said Aberforth.

“We’ve got to,’ said Harry.”

“What you’ve got to do,’ said Aberforth, leaning forwards, ‘is to get as far from here as you can.”

“You don’t understand. There isn’t much time. We’ve got to get into the castle. Dumbledore – I mean, your brother – wanted us –“

“My brother Albus wanted a lot of things,’ said Aberforth, more gruffly than before “and people had a habit of getting hurt while he was carrying out his grand plans. You get away from this school, Potter, and out of the country if you can. Forget my brother and his clever schemes. He’s gone where none of this can hurt him, and you don’t owe him anything.”

‘You don’t understand,’ said Harry again.

‘Oh, don’t I?’ said Aberforth quietly. ‘You don’t think I understood my own brother? Think you knew Albus better than I did?’

‘I didn’t mean that,’ said Harry, whose brain felt sluggish with exhaustion and from the surfeit of food and wine. ‘It’s … he left me a job.’

“Did he, now?’ said Aberforth. ‘Nice job, I hope? Pleasant? Easy? Sort of thing you’d expect a seventeen year old to be able to handle?”

“I can’t. It’s got to be me, Dumbledore explained it all –“

‘Oh, yet me guess. He told you everything, he was honest with you? Made you feel special? Like you were the only one in the world who was important enough to fulfil his grand plan? Was that about the sum of it?”

“Stop it!” Harry snapped, “It doesn’t sound good, but I know what I have to do and I’m not going to turn around and run away now.”

“If you don’t” Aberforth said, “you’re going to wind up as dead as my dear brother. Don’t be an idiot kid, he’s sold you the story thousands of boys before you have fallen for, that you can be a soldier, a hero, that you can save the world- all its going to do is the same thing its done for all of them, its going to get you hurt.”

“Dumbledore cared about Harry” Hermione interjected, finally speaking up, “Harry’s right, what he has to do isn’t pleasant, it isn’t fair, but Dumbledore would have hated that Harry had to do it. It broke his heart to give this mission to him!”

“My brother wasn’t the man he pretended to be missy, he never was, people were tools to him, ever since he was a little boy. He was a manipulator, and more power-hungry than anyone saw. He was so desperate to keep his reputation as ‘the only man the Dark Lord ever feared’ in tact that he kept all the information he had on You-Know-Who close to his chest, he couldn’t have handed it to the Aurors who could have arrested him years ago could he? Albus knew that that kid literally murdered another student in his time at school and he did nothing, Hagrid took the fall for it and Albus didn’t lift a damn finger, he saw the way the tides were turning and he thought another war might give him the chance to be the hero he failed to be when Grindelwald was in power!” 

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears, “no! There’s no way! Dumbledore campaigned for muggle born rights, he let warewolves into his school, he loved his students and he even pays his house elves- you’re just jealous he’s the one everyone knows and the only one of the pair of you who anyone will remember.”

Draco rolled his eyes, “what a Gryffindor reaction.”

Harry and Ron rounded on Draco, eyes wide with surprise, “you don’t believe Dumbledore would ever do anything like this would you? He was a good man” Harry said, almost pleading with Draco not to start a fight about this.

Draco didn’t meet his gaze, “Why does someone always have to be a completely flawless saint or else they’re written off as evil and a horrible person? Why can’t he have been a champion for creature rights and also a completely manipulative person? Why does his being a bad person sometimes negate the fact that he was good other times? Why can’t we let people be a bit of both?”

“You don’t think Dumbledore was manipulating Harry though do you?” Hermione asked, her voice completely scandalised.

“I do actually, I think the headmaster loved you Harry, but not in the way people are meant to love other people. He barely saw you as a person, just a means to an end, the way he saw everyone. 

Take Sirius for example, he spent twelve years in Azkaban for betraying your parents, but Dumbledore knew that Peter Pettigrew was their secret keeper didn’t he? He was the one who did the Fildus Charm for them, so why didn’t he tell anyone? He was head mugwump of the wizagot for Merlin’s sake! He could have called a trial for Sirius at any point, even after the arrest had been made. Remember, Sirius never had a trial, but Dumbledore knew the ciricumstances, in fact, he knew more than anyone, and yet, Sirius stayed in that prison until he escaped himself. Even once he was out, Dumbledore could have told people that he was innocent, he could have told you he was your godfather. But he didn’t. 

There has to be a reason! 

He wanted you to rely on him Harry. To need his input and his input alone. Thats why you were sent to live with the Durselys- not because of your mother’s blood, because guess what? If you don’t feel at home somewhere then blood wards won’t do shit, he knew it wouldn’t actually protect you, but it made you starved for a parental figure, and he could step in to fill that role. 

If Dumbledore saw someone as useful or as an ally he would bend over backwards to help them, he would be their biggest supporter, and in his own way, he would love them. Thats why he was so close to you Harry, you were the key to his whole plan, you were, especially at the end, the most important person in his life. But that’s not really love. Sirius though, Sirius couldn’t offer him anything so his freedom literally didn’t matter. 

To you harry he might have been the best father figure ever, and I appreciate what he did for you, but I have no doubt that he did a lot of those things because he knew it would make you more inclined to fight for him and do as he said.

I think its been great how many people he opened the doors of the school to, and how much he has improved inter-magical cooperation, but I know he also did all those things because he knew he would have a whole bunch of grateful people willing to fight for his cause if they were asked to do so later down the line. 

Whether he was a good person or not is irrelevant here. All that matters is that Dumbledore left Harry a job to do. Was it shitty of him to leave it to Harry? Of course it was! But that doesn’t change the fact that now it is just too late to do anything else. If we don’t see this thing through we are done. So lets follow the plan the arsehole left for us and see where it gets us.” 

Draco’s impassioned speech Aberforth sighed, “there’s nothing I can say to make you change your mind is there?”

All four shook their heads.

The old man stood and gestured to a portrait that hung far in the back of the room, the girl depicted in the frame smiled silently and turned in her frame, she continued to walk away from them until she was no longer visible, moments later she began to walk back, accompanied by a second person. 

Neville Longbottom!

“Neville!” Hermione and Ron cried together, rushing forward to greet their friend.

Neville had filled out in the year since they had seen him, he was much broader in the shoulders, significantly taller and had lost most of the pudge that had characterised him for so long. None of that was quite as shocking as the bruises and cuts that seemed to decorate his face and collar bones, Harry suspected that the rest of his body was just as bad. 

Neville’s face lit up with happiness when he saw his friends, and his smile promptly slipped almost entirely off his face when he saw Draco.

“What’s Malfoy doing here?” He demanded. 

Before Harry or Draco could answer Ron rolled his eyes and interjected for them, “Malfoy finally realised his head has been up his arse his whole life and has come to his senses, now he’s banging Harry. Its super weird but it’ll be a lot easier to get through it all if you just don’t worry about it for now.”

Neville’s eyes bulged slightly and Draco and Harry flushed with embarrassment, as the sight of their rosy cheeks he decided Ron might be right, best not deal with that right now, “right… okay… what’s the plan?”

“Draco and I will head for the Room of Requirement to look for Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem, Hermione and Ron will catch up with any members of Dumbledore’s army and the Order that are in the castle and get everything ready for go time.” Harry said.

And go time it was. 


	45. Chapter 45

The Come and Go Room looked exactly as it had last year, and Draco’s entire body was immediately tensed upon re-entering his personal prison from the year before. The piles and stacks of junk collected over the years stood the same as it apparently always had. It was painfully familiar. Yet Draco couldn’t place where he had seen the diadem. 

He and Harry searched through the piles of hidden things, overwhelmed with the sheer volume of things they had absolutely no time to sort though. 

Just as panic was preparing to drown Draco a voice spoke from behind them. “Good to see you again Malfoy.”

Draco’s blood turned to ice in his veins as he slowly turned to face the speaker. 

Vincent, Greg and Theo stood in formation, wands held aloft. Draco knew there was no chance that he could curse his way past them, Vince and Greg had always flanked him the same way at school, ready to defend him but also, ready to shoot curses from a different angle should the other two miss. He rose his hands in careful, almost surrender. 

“You guys don’t have to do this” he murmered, fearful of making any sudden movements. He didn’t dare risk turning to Harry to try and communicate to him to do the same. Fortunately Harry was very willing (for once) to simply follow Draco’s lead. 

Theo laughed once, a short, humourless sound that Draco had heard from himself far too many times, “we don’t have to do this? Are you joking Malfoy? You of all people know why we have to do this. Its your fault!”

“Hey!” Harry snapped, “Draco didn’t make you do anything, you’ve chosen your side, just because he came to his senses doesn’t make your bad choices his fault.” 

Draco flinched. He loved that Harry saw the situation that way. He even envied the optimism that Harry still managed to hold on to after all this time, and despite all the evidence that should have told him that optimism was futile. But he knew Harry was wrong about him this time. Theo was very much right, it was Draco’s fault they were here. 

“No Harry, he’s right. It is my fault.” Draco said, eyes downcast.

He didn’t see Theo and Harry both raise their eyebrows in mutual shock. Instead he stared steadfastly at the floor just in front of Theo’s shoes. “I knew when I defected that there was a chance that my friends would be pushed further into the Death Eater ranks. Once one of us left, Voldemort would have grown more paranoid about children of Death Eaters trying to leave. When I was indoctrinated he wanted me in as a punishment, but didn’t particularly care about the involvement of other Death Eater children, when I left he had to tighten the reigns on the rest of them.” 

Draco swallowed and dared a look at his old friend, “I’m sorry Theo, and I’m sorry Greg, Vince, I shouldn’t have put you in this position… it was terribly selfish of me.” 

He hadn’t expected it, but Theo’s expression seemed to soften, “I’ve wondered all year if you ever even thought about us anymore. About the ‘friends’ you traded in when you swapped sides.” 

“Theo!” Draco exclaimed, “of course I did. I’ve been drowning in guilt for months for what I did to you, I know exactly what its like to be in your position and I hate myself for leaving you to the fate I suffered.”

Harry frowned but focused his energy on not responding, his input in this conversation was definitely not desired. But he couldn’t deny that it broke his heart to see Draco hating himself. He knew that he had been worrying about his friends, but it hadn’t occurred to him how much Draco was being eaten with guilt for saving himself. Harry couldn’t help but be grateful regardless that Draco had left. He couldn’t imagine his life anymore without Draco by his side. He felt for the Slytherin friends Draco had left behind, but he couldn’t honestly say he would have done anything differently. 

“I thought you were dead for half the year. Then when I found out you weren’t… I didn’t know if I should be relieved or furious. The year just got worse and worse, we have been forced to do things I never thought I would have to do… I never wanted to be this person but, I just… I can’t be responsible for the consequences my family would have to face” Theo swallowed heavily. “The Slytherins are being forced to punish each other for non compliance, its gone mental here… we don’t have a choice.”

Draco listened to his friends with tears welling up in his eyes. The whole situation was so fucked up. Every time he thought he had grown used to the state of the world they were living in, something like this would smack reality in his face. He felt like he had never felt older and more worn out, but at the same time, he felt acutely aware of his youth. They were only seventeen and were being treated like soldiers. His friends at Hogwarts were trying to hold each other inline to obey orders none of them signed up to follow in the first place, Harry and his friends were on the hunt for a genocidal maniac that should be anyone else’s responsibility to deal with first. How had this devolved into a war fought by children? He couldn’t help but feel betrayed by all the adults who had dropped the ball along the way and allowed the children of this war to bear the brunt of the consequences. 

Harry listened with a heavy heart to Nott. He wasn’t someone that Harry had ever had very much to do with but he remembered so acutely hearing Draco tell him that he didn’t have a choice either. He remembered being in the Room of Requirement, before Draco had come to mean anything to him at all and hearing the blond boy he had fallen so head over heels for cry about his own lack of choice. 

If Draco got a way out, surely they all deserved one too?

“Theo?” Harry asked softly, he had no idea if what he was about to say would be welcomed at all, but damn it, he had to try! 

Theo’s only indication that he had heard Harry was a brief nod of the head. It was more green light than Harry had expected, so he proceeded.

“I know we don’t know each other, I know I’ve never spoken to you but I guess now is as good a time as any. I want to apologise to you. Getting Draco out of Death Eater service is something I will never regret, but I am sorry that I never tried to help the rest of you. I’ll be honest, as much as Draco told me differently, I always sort of assumed that he was the exception. That he wanted a way out and the rest of you didn’t. Its stupid of me, I know, especially given how hard I had to work to convince Draco to leave. I remember him telling me the same things you’re saying now. That he had no choice, that he couldn’t do it, that his family and friends would suffer for his defection. It took a lot to get him to accept help when it was being offered. I know we are a year on from then and your situation can’t be the same as Draco’s but if you don’t want to be in this fight, we can help to evacuate you. No one will harm you and when all this is over, you can decide where you want to stand. The same offer extends to you too Crabbe and Goyle.”

They all pause as Harry’s words hang heavily in the air between them. 

“Draco?” Theo asked, his voice taking on a vulnerable, soft quality that Harry never would have expected to hear from the broad, tall boy before him. “Will you be evacuating with us if we go?”

Draco didn’t hesitate “No, I won’t be.”

“Why wouldn’t you escape if you could?” 

Threading his fingers between Harry’s Draco gave his hand a brief squeeze before answering “I want to fight for the right side of this war. It is actually my choice this time and if there’s any chance I can play even the smallest role in getting rid of Voldemort. Of making sure no other kids have to go through what we’ve been forced to go through, then I want to do that. Harry can’t back out of this, he has to win this, and I want to be able to stand beside him and say I did my bit, to support him and be there with him when this is all over and be able to actually witness a Voldemort free world. One that we made possible. I am lucky enough that I have a choice now, and even if this doesn’t work out, even if I don’t make it out of here tonight, I want to make that choice count for something. Don’t you want that? A chance to have a say in what happens to you? To everyone?”

If Theo was at all surprised by Draco’s confession, or even his holding of Harry’s hand, he didn’t show it. Instead, he nodded once and turned to face Crabbe and Golye, “I want that too, I’m going to stay and fight, what are you guys going to do?”

Critical thinking, Harry reflected, was likely not something that Crabbe and Golye were accustomed to being trusted with. They looked completely stunned that their input was even being asked for. 

Draco stepped forward, addressing the two “I know when I left I harmed you guys as well. And I know that you two probably deserved it the least. You have been the most loyal friends I could have ever asked for all through school, and for years before that. But I also know that this war means something different for the two of you. Theo and I… and a lot of us, we want the chance to be our own people, to step out from the role thats been forced on us, you guys aren’t so worried about that. You’ve never wanted attention, or to challenge the status quo, you just want to be on whatever side gives you the best odds for survival and I understand that. I really do. So no matter what you chose, I won’t raise my wand against you. I promise, if you don’t want to come with us, we will let you leave here safely.”

Though Harry was concerned about the idea of giving the two thuggish boys free pass to go and hurt someone else, but he said nothing, he could almost see the cogs turning in their heads (a truly unfamiliar sight). Harry crossed his fingers firmly behind his back and hoped with every fibre of his being that Draco’s speech had convinced them… or at least swayed them into not harming them. But he didn’t relax. 

A few moments later, he was glad he hadn’t.

Crabbe shook his head “If we bring in Potter, we get a reward.”

Draco paled, “yes, I’m sure you would… But I won’t let you take him.”

Crabbe smiled briefly, amused by Draco thinking he could take him on. Draco had always relied on his and Goyle’s superior strength to intimidate others since he had none of his own. And they’d spent all year learning new offensive spells. Weighing up the options, he knew he could win this. Harry Potter was one guy. A small one at that. If he got Potter, the whole war thing could be over and done with. Life would go back to normal and he would get rewarded. It would be easy. 

He lunged forward, reaching immediately for his wand. Throwing his meaty fist out he swung at Harry. 

Draco was the first to react, firing a stunner that missed Crabbe by millimetres. Harry, fortunately, had plenty of practice with people trying to take a swing at him, and ducked just in time. He pivoted, grabbing Draco by the arm of his robes and took off in a run. Crabbe was physically far stronger than either of them, and the Room of Hidden Things was so crowded that they wouldn’t be able to fire spells without risking hitting each other, their only option was to run and to hope that Crabbe’s size would slow him down. 

Draco sprinted alongside Harry, following the winds and curves that the mountains of discarded junk made. The scanned as he ran, hoping for a glimpse of the diadem. 

He stopped searching though when he heard Vincent shout “Stop! Get back here! AVADA KEDAVRA!!”

He wanted to disbelieve what he heard. He wished he was shocked to hear that spell pass thorough his friend’s lips, but a year ago, he was also ready to cast an unforgivable curse at Harry. With his blood pounding like ice through his veins he grabbed onto Harry’s hand firmly and ran faster. 

In the chaos Draco lost track of Theo and Greg, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him before skidding to a halt. He could smell something burning. 

Turning around he could no longer see Vincent following behind them like a rampaging bull, instead he saw the tops of flames that were already beginning to engulf the room.

“Fiendfyre” Harry gasped, frozen on the spot. 

Leaping into action Draco frantically shifted through the debris around him, before mercifully spotting a pair of broomsticks. He threw one over to Harry and kicked off the ground. 

The two of them soared into the air, scanning the room for Draco’s friends and for the diadem. 

They spotted Theo and Greg first, diving down to the ground to pull them onto the brooms to safety. Theo held on to Draco, sitting behind him, while Greg shared Harry’s broom. 

As they were piling on Vincent lunged out from the smoke, his hands going directly for Harry’s throat. His face contorted in rage and sweat dripped off his soot covered skin. He looked every inch the Death Eater he had been forced to become. 

Without thinking, Greg kicked his leg forward, colliding with Vincent’s face, knocking him back to the ground “GO!” He shouted “We have to get out of here!”

The flames were reaching high through the room now, and everything was covered in smoke. There would be no stopping the flames as feindfyre burned until there was nothing left to burn. They had less than a minute before they too would be swallowed by the flames. 

Pushing forward on the brooms Harry and Draco shot towards the exit. Desperately pushing the brooms to go faster, faster and faster until finally they burst through the doors and collided harshly with the solid ground. 

For a moment everything was silent. 

The shock of the last few minutes settled heavily over them as they all stared at the door to the Room of Requirement where their friend was burning to death. 

Draco was the first to break the silence, a chocked sob escaping him. 

Harry wrapped his arms around him, at a complete loss of what to say. 

“He was so stupid” Theo sighed, tears freely flowing down his face. 

“Of course he was stupid!” Draco shouted, his grief pouring out of him in a rage, “he was a complete moron! But no one should have to die for being stupid. He cast that curse, we all know it but now he’s going to be dead and there’s nothing we can do about it. He was our friend since before we could even walk! Who gives a fuck if he’s stupid this isn’t fucking okay.” 

His voice broke at the end of his tirade and he stopped speaking to allow his tears to fall again. 

Draco had been friends with Vincent for as long as he could remember, but he still never considered that he might one day mourn him, that losing him would hurt this badly. Yeah, Vincent was an idiot, but he was also their friend. 

Greg said nothing, still staring dumbfounded at the door. It had always been the two of them, Crabbe and Golye, no one ever considered the two of them as separate people, they were just Crabbe and Golye. The weight of the reality of Crabbe being still inside that room… of knowing what was happening, that there wouldn’t even be a body. It crushed him. 

“I don’t know what to say, I am so sorry” Harry murmured into Draco’s hair. His rms having returned once again to attempt to comfort Draco. 

“It was all for nothing” Draco cried, pressing his face further into the nook of Harry’s shoulder.

“Its all for nothing though isn’t it?” Theo asked quietly. 

“Yeah… it is… but we went in there to look for something, we still don’t know if it was in there.” Harry answered. 

“What were you looking for?”

“A diadem, the one that used to belong to Rowena Ravenclaw. Sort of a tiara thing.”

Theo was silent for a minute, “with diamonds and blue stones? Shaped kind of like a small triangle… with a raven embossed on the front?”

Harry stared at Theo, “yeah, that’s it exactly…”

Theo nodded, “I saw it in there, whatever you wanted it for its definitely gone now.”

Draco rested his head on his hands, conflicting emotions rolling over him in waves. He was glad the diadem was gone, one more damn Horcrux down but the enormity of the entire war felt rested like it was crushing him. He couldn’t imagine how Harry coped, Draco was overwhelmed and exhausted but Harry had lost friends, family members, even random people who he simply couldn’t save. He knew how heavily those people weighed on Harry’s conscience and yet he kept going. Draco’s situation was shit, there was no denying that, but Vincent was the first friend Draco had ever lost. Despite the constant threat of his parents being killed for his defection, Draco had two living and (relatively) healthy parents. Yet still, he felt like his whole world was crumbling around him. 

But they had to keep moving. 

Harry had been dealing with this war for years before Draco decided to join the fight. He had been dealing with death and loss and grief for far longer than anyone should have to. If Draco was going to be with Harry, he would have to support him through Merlin knows how much more of it too. 

So, he decided, however painful the death of Vincent Crabbe was, he would deal with it later, when they had time to grieve properly. Right now though, Harry needed him to be strong. 

So he would be strong.


	46. Chapter 46

Harry was at a loss as to what to say to Draco. The grief he was feeling was so heartbreaking evident across his face but so too was his determination to keep going. Harry hated that look, he’d spotted it on the faces of his friends many times over the years. It was the look of someone who was clearly struggling with something, be it a fight with their parents, a death in the family, or in Draco’s case, the loss of a friend- they would always stop themselves, hold themselves back from talking about it when Harry was around. After all, how can you whinge about your parents to the kid who doesn’t have any? How can you talk about the grief of losing a loved one got someone who has lost so many? And how do you tell someone you don’t know if you can keep going when they have no choice?

 

Harry hated it, he hated that the people closest to him had to censor themselves, hold back their pain, because they were afraid of their pain seeming insignificant compared to the avalanche of horrors Harry had been buried under for so long.

 

The truth was though, Harry was so grateful that people couldn’t relate to going through as much as Harry had. He didn’t want anyone to be able to relate to his experience- his experience was awful and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Besides, as anyone who had been through tragedy would tell you, experiencing ten horrible things doesn’t make the eleventh any easier. As Draco grit his teeth and forced himself up Harry vowed silently that as soon as everything was over, he would make Draco take the time to grieve, he wouldn’t let him lock it away in the back of his mind like he was sure Draco would try to do. But unfortunately, they just didn’t have time now.

 

Gently, Harry pulled Draco close against him and kissed his cheek in an attempt at a small piece of comfort, “I’m so sorry” he whispered.

 

Draco shook his head, “not now.”

 

Harry understood. Later. Draco would accept comfort later, but if he got any now he wouldn’t be able to hold it together.

 

But they would talk about it, Harry would be there for him, and years from now when Draco still had nightmares about it and still felt those horrible pangs of grief for the friend he lost, Harry would be there.

 

“We have to keep going” Draco said, wiping his eyes and squeezing Harry’s hand.

 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed sadly, “lets find Ron and Hermione- we need to figure out how to destroy that cup!”

 

Pulling the marauder’s map from his pocket Harry scanned the layout of the castle, searching high and low for his friends.

 

Eventually, after a few swear words and insistences that they had simply vanished, or worse, left deliberately, he found them. It was really any wonder they were so hard to find, they turned up in quite literally the last place Harry would have looked for them in the moment- in Moaning Mertyl’s bathroom.

 

Grabbing Draco’s wrist he hurried along the familiar halls to the ghost’s haunting ground.

 

They hurried so quickly that they nearly ran headfirst into the couple as they too were on their way to search for their friends.

 

Hermione’s eyes widened at the sight of them, even more singed and burnt looking than they had been after the disaster in Bellatrix’s vault- “What happened?” She demanded, her eyes struggling not to linger for too long on Draco’s burning trousers, his completely discheveled hair, the soot that seemed to coat every available surface of his skin and his swollen and puffy red eyes that stared lifelessly from above his tear track stained face. They had clearly missed something big.

 

“I don’t want to get into it right now” Draco said, once again insisting on not speaking of the incident, knowing full well that if he spoke of what happened to Vincent then he might break down completely - and then he’d be no good to anyone.

 

Harry too shook his head, imploring Hermione to act on the tact and social skill that she occasionally managed to bring out. Luckily for them she seemed to pick up on the hint.

 

“What about you pair? It took us ages to find you on the map!” Harry asked, getting back to the point at hand.

 

“Oh, right, yes of course- we’ve been in the Chamber of Secrets!” Hermione explained, her voice far too flippant for such an unusual response.

 

“I’m sorry?” Draco asked, “The Chamber of Secrets? You just decided to pop down into one of the most mysterious and hidden places in Hogwarts, right before a massive battle breaks out, for what? A spot of sightseeing?”

 

“No actually” Ron said, a smug smirk crossing his face as he prepared to recount his heroism to the couple before him, “We were saying how one of the honey foolproof ways to destroy a Horcrux is with a basilisk fang, thats how Harry destroyed the diary back in second year, yeah? So we thought, what if its still down there? I mean, how would they get it out? Its not like the elves could just be sent down there to tidy up Merlin knows how many tonnes of snake down there- and shit mate, I know you said it was a big snake but holy hell, we got down there and it was massive! I don’t know how you fought that thing!”

 

“Ron” Hermione said, nipping his distraction in the bud.

 

“Right, yeah, sorry. Anyway you told us how Fawkes had plucked the snakes’s eyes out so we figured that even if a dead basalisk’s eyes could kill you, we should’ve fine, since this one didn’t have any. So we went down there, the drop into the chamber is still scary as fuck by the way- Slytherin was one creepy fuck, no offence Malfoy, but seriously, if you’re ever getting a little too high on your Slytherin pride I reckon you should go down there, get some perspective you know. Its awful. Anyway, long story short we kicked a few of its teeth out of its rotting old head and brought them up here. We stabbed the cup and here we are! One horcrux down and we have our horcrux killing kit here with us to use on the next one.”

 

Harry was stunned, not only because it was probably the most words Ron had evert said to Draco that didn’t involve threats to his safety or wellbeing, but also because it was starting to genuinely hurt his head that he and Draco had only been separated from Ron and Hermione for less than an hour. Too much had happened for Harry to keep straight.

 

“But hang on, you need to speak Parseltongue to get into the chamber?” Somehow that was the first question that came to Harry’s mind.

 

“Oh thats the best part” Hermione squealed, wanting to get in on the glory of their victory. “He did!”

 

“Ron?”

 

“Yes! He was so clever! He remembered-“

 

“Hermione, I can tell it!” Ron protested, though inside he swelled with pride at he fact that Hermione Granger, his best friend in the whole world, was actually bragging about him! His fourteen year old self would have wet himself with delight if he had seen it.

 

“I remembered what you said to get it open back in second year. I won’t lie, took me a couple goes to get it to work but I got there! Then we dropped down the slide and into the chamber, it was mental.”

 

“So now we just need to find the others and this whole thing is nearly over!” Hermione concluded.

“There’s no others to find” Draco said, “we destroyed the diadem. So thats the diary, the ring, the snake, the locket, the cup and the diadem- all thats left is the piece thats still in him and he’s dead...”

 

 

Though Harry had when working to this point all year, and far longer if truth be told, he suddenly felt like all he wanted to do was slam on the breaks.

 

The sounds of Ron and Hermione planning and Draco suggesting their next steps blurred into a loud hum in the background and he couldn’t distinguish any of the words they were saying.

 

His chest felt too heavy, and it made breathing difficult. He struggled to keep his vision in focus, but all of it happened so slowly, so subtlety that he barely noticed anything was wrong until he felt Draco’s arms wrap around him quickly, catching him as his body stumbled to the ground.

 

“HARRY!” Draco shouted, alarmed by Harry’s sudden collapse. His eyes scanned his boyfriend’s birth critically, looking for any sign of lingering injury from the Come and Go Room.

 

Harry’s eyes flicked in his direction, b it it was obvious he wasn’t focusing, his breathing was coming in shallow and sharp and his hands were weak as they struggled to hold onto Draco for support.

 

“Harry,” he repeated, more calmly as it dawned on him what was wrong, “I need you to listen to me okay. You’re panicking. I need to you breathe for me okay, nice and deeply and slowly.”

 

Hermione watched as Draco, her once tormentor and bully, spoke softly and more gently than Hermione had ever heard anyone talk to another seventeen year old to her best friend. It was a scene she never thought she’d see, but when she caught the look in Harry’s eye as he followed Draco’s instructions and looked so lovingly and trustingly at the blond, she understood for the first time why Harry and Draco worked together. For the first time since Harry’s introduction of the ‘new’ Draco Hermione genuinely believed that he had changed. That he wasn’t the person she knew him as.

 

“I have to kill him” Harry whispered, his voice shaking with horror at the very thought. That wasn’t possible, he was just Harry, he was awkward and so young, he was in love and obsessed with Quiddich, he felt guilty when he couldn’t give his owl as much attention as she deserved and was starting to strongly believe that every problem in the world could be made at least a little better if he got a hug from Draco. None of those things were characteristics of killers.

 

Oh Merlin, he would be a murderer. He had better cause for his murder than most people, that much he ways glad to still be able to claim, but he would have to take a human life. It had to be him. And it had to be tonight.

 

Suddenly he found himself thinking back to his lessons with Dumbledore the year before, of learning about the lonely, twisted little boy who had grown up to become Lord Voldemort. Little Tom Riddle was an orphan, alone and resentful of the world that had failed to provide for him. Every step of the way the adults responsible for his care should have seen that something was seriously wrong with him and stepped in. Once he got to Hogwarts Dumbledore knew of all the issues he had and didn’t do anything to intervene. All anyone did was sit back and watch as this highly disturbed and unstable teenage boy travelled further and further down the path that led him to becoming Voldemort. And now, Harry would have to kill him.

 

His mind filled with the image of the very young Tom Riddle on the day that Dumbledore visited him the first time in the orphanage.

 

He was going to be sick.

 

He genuinely worried that the weight of that fact along might be enough to break him entirely. He couldn’t get past it.

 

Fortunately for him, he was speaking some of his worries out loud to himself, and Draco was close enough within hearing range to be able to catch the gist of Harry’s panic.

 

“Harry” Draco whispered, nuzzling into Harry’s chaotic hair, keeping his voice low enough that Ron and Hermione wouldn’t her, “I’m sorry you have to do this love, but you know this doesn’t make you like them. The fact alone that this is upsetting you this much is proof alone. They kill because they want to, because they feel like they can- you’re barely able to cope with the thought of doing it. I know it’s going to be awful, but baby, you need to think about all the people you’re going to save. Do it for them. The people who will get a chance to really live their lives once that monster is gone. If you can get through tonight for them, I’ll be right here to pick up the pieces.”

 

Harry pulled him closer, squeezing his eyes shut and fighting desperately to get his breath back under control.

“Okay” He nodded, “lets go do this I guess.”

 

With that, he stood up and headed off down the hall, unwilling to discuss his fears any more. “Come on, Ron and Hermione, you go and regroup with the Order, Draco and I are going to go try and figure out what Voldemort’s movements are. It will be better if we can meaty him where he is, to minimise damage and casualties here. We’ll take the cloak so hopefully we aren’t seen while we scope out the Death Eaters.”

 

“Harry are you sure?” Hermione asked, “that sounds horribly dangerous.”

 

Harry gaped at her, “all of this is dangerous! The castle is crawling with Death Eaters and no one is safe, we are all in danger and until we end this we’re going to stay that way. The time for being cautious is well and truly out the window now!”

 

Draco shook his head “I’ll look after him. Stupid noble git.” The time for careful planning and long term preparation might be behind them, but he would be damned if he would stand by and let Harry throw common sense away in his adrenaline fulled fever.

 

Hermione nodded her gratitude, she was glad Harry was bringing him along with him, at least for Draco’s sake Harry would be moderately careful.

 

Harry and Draco set off through the castle, running to dodge and weave their way through the castle’s invaders. Draco tried desperately to avoid looking at the faces of the people he fired curses at, not wanting to see anymore people he once thought of as family looking back at him with such hatred.

 

Fortunately, at least this yearly in the night, the Death Eaters being sent into the castle weren’t the elite force, the really lethal and sadistic ones that Voldemort would likely be keeping close to himself until the battle was truly underway. These Death Eaters were mostly just there to stir up chaos and to distrust the evacuation attempts.

 

They were reasonably easy to defeat for Harry and Draco, given their experience taking down far more hostile threats. Even still, one could still catch them unaware if they didn’t pay attention.

 

They wasted far too much time looking for where Voldemort might be hiding out, Draco vehemently vetoed Harry’s suggestion to go searching through the forest for them, as, in his words ‘only a complete moron would think wandering aimlessly though a dangerous forest in the dark just on the off chance that he stumbles across the most dangerous wizard of all time.’

 

Harry had no argument for that.

 

They circled the perimeter of the castle, obsessively checking the map and keeping their eyes peeled for signs of movement, either from their targets or anyone else. At this stage it was all dangerous.

 

Finally Harry gasped and pulled Draco along to where he saw two spots on the map that caught his eye: “Severus Snape” and “Tom Riddle”.

 

They were headed for the Whomping Willow.

 

“Harry” Draco hissed, “we need to talk to Snape, he’ll help us. Can we get him away from Him?”

 

“Snape? Are you kidding me? Why would he help us? He killed Dumbledore!!” Harry’s voice raised dangerously and Draco slapped a hand over his mouth to shush him.

 

“Yes, I know, but he’s my godfather, he’s one of the only adults I trust not to betray me. Even if he is a Death Eater he will help, at least how he thinks he can.”

 

“Draco thats completely insane!” Harry pleaded, hoping desperately that his boyfriend would see sense.

 

Draco’s eyes flicked back to his godfather and the Dark Lord’s repeating figures, he knew it was insane, of course it was, but the time for careful consideration was passed and Draco’s gut instinct was that this might just work.

 

It was actually Harry who taught him how to hear and trust his gut instinct. Oh the irony.

 

“Accio Severus!” Draco said, acting on a moment of panicked spontaneity (Harry was really starting to rub off on him was he?).

 

Severus flew backwards towards the invisible boys in a way that later would makeDraco crack up at the memory. Severus Snape, in his giant signature black cloak lifted from the ground and flew backwards through the air, robes billowing like a huge, slightly startled bat. He barrelled backwards directly into the boys beneath the cloak, all three of them ending up tangled and squished together on the cold grass.

 

Draco threw the cloak off his shoulders and shushed his godfather, grabbing him by the wrist and leading him away from the Whomping Willow to avoid Voldemort spotting him. They scurried away, unable to go into the castle lest they run into the fights going on there, and unable to go into the forest, they eventually got far enough away to find a safe space to stop.

 

“Draco” Severus said when he saw him properly “I’ve been so worried about you.”

 

“Hello Uncle Severus.”

 

Harry too pushed the cloak from his shoulders, but wasn’t offended when Snape seemed far less excited to see him.

 

“Draco doesn’t think you’ll turn him in if we talk to you- is he wrong?” Harry asked, not willing to sit through pleasantries if this was going to be a massive mistake, Harry wanted to know sooner rather than later.

 

“No, I won’t turn either of you in. In fact, I’ve been needing to find you both… Harry, there are some things you need to see. I’m sorry its taken me so long but I hope when you see these you will understand a bit more of… everything that has been happening, and how to finish this.”

 

He didn’t meet Harry’s gaze, but his tone was more apologetic than Harry had ever heard him use before. He reached his wand up to his forehead and pulled forth a slivery blue smoke, almost like the whisps of a patronus charm that he went to direct into a vial he had handy.

 

“What are you doing?” Draco demanded, “showing him memories?”

 

“There are some things he needs to see” Severus explained, “there is a pensive in my office, get yourselves up there and watch these, they’ll show you everything you need to know.”

 

Draco threw his hands up in frustration, “no, I’m sick of all of this, if you have information tell us. Why is everyone so determined to make everything so complicated and convoluted. Sit us down and tell us what we need to know and what’s going on. I am not running the risk that something is misunderstood or left out just because we don’t get the opportunity to ask you questions while we’re messing through your memories. I know you don’t like Harry but come on Severus, can’t you put that aside for five minutes to give us this information that is so crucial?”

 

“I rather think Potter won’t want me present when he hears what he must do.” Severus said, still not meeting Harry’s eyes.

 

“Honestly, I agree with Draco, I don’t care what you’ve got to say, but I’d rather hear it from you than spend hours trolling through your memories for something you can just explain to me properly… or is it so bad you can’t face me when you say it?” Harry said, his stomach dropping with the thought. That could be exactly it, that Severus couldn’t look him in the eye because what he had to say was so horrible that even he, who had always hated Harry, didn’t want to be the one to tell him outright.

 

“I’ve never had adults be honest with me” Harry said, “everything has always communicated with me in clues, subtle hints and riddles. Frankly its getting really annoying being nudged and prodded along like this. I want to know whats happening and I think I’ve earned someone just telling me point blank what is going on.”

 

“You’re right” Severus said, “I suppose I owe you that much at least. Come, lets go up to my office and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

 

Harry and Draco followed without another word, their hearts heavy with the anxiety of what they might hear.


	47. Chapter 47

 

The castle was overrun with fighting. From every direction curses and hexes flew threw the air, hitting their targets or ricocheting dangerously off the walls. All Harry could see was plumes of smoke, angry faces shouting orders, spells, insults and rage into the chaos. He could smell the smoke in the air, the blood of the wounded and the hairs on his arms stood up with the static that sizzled around them from the excessive use of magic. He felt as though he had been hotwired, with every never ending in his body made hyper aware of his surroundings.

 

But remarkably, he followed. Dilligently he kept pace with Snape and Draco, both of whom were somehow weaving their way through the masses without engaging with the fights. Draco and Harry had the invisibility cloak around them, and Draco had a firm grip on Harry’s hand, partially to comfort him, but partially to keep his hotheaded boyfriend grounded. Snape had cast a notice me not spell around himself that kept attention distracted. But it was the moral implications of not intervening that Harry struggled with, not the practicalities.

 

When he saw a Death Eater throw a lethal spell at a student, a classmate he knew, he struggled not to leap to their defence.

 

Draco watched too, not as unbothered by the sights around him as he acted, “I know you want to help” he murmured to Harry, “but you have to trust that you can do more for them if you figure all this out, I think Severus has answers we need, the sooner we have those answers the sooner we can help all of them.”

 

Harry nodded, but struggled to hold on to Draco’s words when he saw a familiar group of ginger heads bowed low together on the far end of the Great Hall. The battle still raged on around them, but the Weasley’s were huddled together, the feet of one of them sticking out from the centre of the huddle. Beside the family was a broken wall, the bricks scattering the surrounding area as dust still plumed up and around them.

 

Harry wondered who had been injured (unwilling to even consider that it might be more than an injury) and hated himself for forcing his feet to keep moving. But he did so. Draco was right, he needed answers. They had been shooting blind for far too long and now, on the day that this could all come to an end, he couldn’t go in without crucial information.

 

As they made their way through the castle, with a few too many close calls with wayward spells for Draco’s liking- they soon came to the headmaster’s office. The office that Draco only then realised was now Severus’.

 

Before they were able to climb the stairs past the gargoyle a high pitched, amplified voice echoed though the castle- “you have fought valiantly.”

 

The screams Draco heard at the sound of Voldemort’s voice echoed his own panic- even his voice was terrifying, how Harry would fight him, face to face, he had no idea.

 

With his blood running cold with anxiety Draco listened to the voice of his parents’ master.

 

“You have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat, immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

 

I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour.”

 

Every word was like a stab in Harry’s chest. His mind filled with the images of the people he had seen on his way up the castle, people who were being killed, who were bleeding and who had been suffering for so long- all in his name. He never wanted any of this, it wasn’t fair! So many of the people laying down their lives were children, or had whole lives ahead of them and because of Harry they might not get the chance to live at all.

 

In the grand scheme of things, how important was he really?

 

Wasn’t he just being selfish by allowing these people to fight if they didn’t have to. If there was even the slightest chance that Voldemort would call off his attack and spare the people in the castle, did he not owe it to them to do at least that much for them? If they were dying for him, should he not offer to do the same for them?

 

He vaguely thought of Draco, of the people he loved and how much it hurt to have to make such a decision. But even though he knew it would break Draco‘s heart for him to do it, he would rather Draco be alive and heartbroken, with even the chance to one day move on and be happy, than to be killed as the Death Eaters moved further and further into the castle, robbing him of any kind of future at all.

 

Draco whipped his head around to look at Harry, his face had gone pale and Draco knew the instant Harry had made up his mind. He acted only a second behind him as he flung the invisibility cloak off and turned on his heel to obey the voice of the maniac.

 

Draco grabbed his wrist, and held on tightly as Harry struggled. Harry groaned in frustration, not wanting to draw the pain of the moment out further than necessary- for either of their sakes “How many people have to die for me Draco?”

 

“They aren’t dying for you!” Draco snapped, frantically searching his mind for the words he needed to say to convince his love not to go through with it.“Don’t you dare reduce their sacrifice to them dying for you. They are dying for a cause they believe in, to protect their families, their children and loved ones, they are dying so strangers and everyone in the magical community can be safe. This isn’t about you anywhere near as much as everyone would have you believe. You heard the prophecy Harry, you know, if it wasn’t you it would have been someone else. You’re in the thick of it, you can finish this, but none of it is your fault. Not a single drop of blood spilled is on your conscience, its all on him and his Death Eaters.”

 

Harry stared at Draco, everything about his expression was giving away the extent of his panic. He was still gripping fiercely onto Harry’s wrist, his eyes were glossy but trained strictly on Harry, watching for any sudden movements.

 

Harry wanted so desperately to believe him too, to accept for a moment that the death and destruction that surrounded him wasn’t on his shoulders. He wanted to believe that the aurors, order members, teachers and adult witches and wizards who came to defend the castle would be able to protect them. But the prophecy still echoed in his head “neither can live while the other survives.”

 

This wouldn’t be over until one of them died.

 

He had hoped that the one to die would be Voldemort. But what was he to say it had to be? Maybe his death would give the Light side enough of a reprive for them to rise back up and win the whole thing. Maybe he was holding the whole war back?

 

“Before you go making any decisions I think you boys need to hear what I have to say.” Severus said, leading them up the stairs into the office. Once inside, he paced for a few moments, clearly trying to gather his thoughts before gesturing for the boys to sit down and pouring himself a generous serving of Firewhisky.

 

It was such a shocking display of anxiety and of... humanity, something Harry would never have even thought Snape capable that Harry couldn't help but feel himself respond. What he wanted to do, logically, was curse the teacher that had tormented him for so long, to shout and rage against the monster who had killed his mentor. But he couldn’t. Either his body wouldn’t comply with what his mind wanted, or his heart somehow knew better. (he was chosing to believe it was the former).

 

“There is… I’m afraid… rather a lot that you don’t know. For a long time it was none of your business and Merlin knows I never wanted to be the one to tell you. But we have, unfortunately, reached a point at which some of this information has become critical. So I ask that you bare with me and allow me to explain to you everything. Or at least, as much as I am privy to. I am sure that as I recount this story to you, you will find yourself extremely angry with me and may not want to hear anymore. I assure you I have been equally angry with myself, if not more so and I understand your… inevitable frustration. But I ask that you allow me to say my peace and I will leave you to do with this information what you will.” Snape said, his characteristic slow and measured voice not betraying any of his nerves. Though Draco, who knew him well, could see the way he paced, the way his long hair fell forward to hide his face, and even the self deprication in his words, and he knew this was not going to be a pleasant story.

 

Nodding once in agreement, Harry steeled himself for what was to come and Snape spoke again.

 

“I grew up in the same neighbourhood as Lily and Petunia Evans. We attended the same muggle primary school and had very little to do with each other until we were around nine years old. My mother was a witch and I knew all about magic growing up, though my muggle father insisted on some muggle education as well, but I fully expected to be going to Hogwarts when the time came and I recognised immediately the signs of Lily’s developing magic.

 

She used to love reviving wilted flowers, making them bloom in her hand to try and show off for her older sister. Or she would jump far higher than anyone else off of swing sets and land safely without injury. The other kids would sometimes be impressed and it drove Petunia mad. Your aunt, Harry, was a miserable person from the very beginning. She called Lily a freak and scorned any display of Lily’s skills. That was when she and I met. I found her one day, crying about her sister’s cruel treatment and offered her an explanation for what she could do. I told her about Hogwarts, about magic, and about how muggles- like her family, would never be a part of it the way she would be.

 

Eventually, as I predicted, Lily got her Hogwarts letter and the two of us became close friends, both excited to go off to school together. Both of us considered ourselves something of an outcast in our school, though Lily was far more liked than I ever was, I think we were just happy to have a familiar face going with us.

 

When Minerva came to the Evans household to explain to your grandparents what Lily could do, they were thrilled. I think they always worried for their younger daughter, she always danced to the beat of her own drum and the idea that there were others like her was comforting to them. It was less comforting to Petunia, who came to see that day as the day Lily chose the magical world over her.

 

So we came to school and as you well know, were sorted into different houses. But at the time that didn’t matter. We were best friends, for years.

 

But unfortunately, time changes things. And it started to become clear that we were growing apart.

 

I was an isolated child, frequently bullied by other students both within and outside of my own house. And the few students who were kind to me, who perhaps took pity on me, I rebuffed, thinking myself superior to them. I was very young and arrogant, but I thought I was cleverer than them, I thought I was more magically powerful than them. I didn’t want to be friends with them. But I didn’t want to be lonely either.

 

Lily struggled with my isolation as well. I was angry all the time. I didn’t want to be friends with anyone else but I constantly moaned to her of my social rejections from my peers. I mocked and belittled my classmates, but I hated that they didn’t want to be my friends either.

 

Eventually I started talking to the older students, the ones who would become the first Death Eaters as soon as they were out of school. I came from a home where I felt powerless and went straight into a school where I felt powerless. As an adult I understand that my powerlessness came from the fact that I was awkward, isolated and angry from an early age- I was the perfect recruit for up and coming young Death Eaters. They convinced me that our school was too biased towards muggleborns and that all of my social woes were their fault. I am ashamed to say that for a long while I believed them.

 

Well… I believed them in every case except one. I didn’t see Lily that way. She was kind to me, even when I made doing so hard for her. She was my best friend for years and instead of seeing her as a sign that muggleborns could be good people and that my problems were largely my own issues, I saw her as the exception.

 

Eventually she began to show an interest in James Potter. This was not easy for me to accept as I had come to develop a bit of a shining for her myself. I attributed her attraction to him to his Pureblood status, rather than his athletic ability or charm, as I was, once again, easily swayed by my Death Eater peers who convinced me of the instinct muggleborns had to dilute magical lineages. They assumed that everyone was as obsessed with blood status as themselves.

 

I felt slighted. How dare she, a lowly muggleborn,try to aim higher than myself for my half blood ancestry? My father’s muggle status was something that over the years I became increasingly ashamed of, and so, I felt Lily ought to be double ashamed of her own parentage. The fact that she wasn’t confused me…. I convinced myself eventually that she wasn’t concerned for her own blood status because she was going to have children with a higher status and buy her way into our community. It was not a period of my life I am proud of. One day I was out by the lake and was being taunted by James and his friends and when Lily tried to defend me I snapped… I called her a mudblood and that was the end of our friendship.

 

Lily was devastated, but James managed to soothe her anger more than I could. She had been angry at him for tormenting me, but even at that age, she saw very clearly the difference between the kind of bullying James partook in, a kind of bullying that was immature but mostly harmless, and the kind of bullying that myself and my friends partook in, which was a lot more sadistic.

 

She eventually forgave James on the proviso that he cease his bullying. He agreed to her terms willingly and they got together.

 

From there Lily and I had very little to do with each other. We saw one another from time to time, but actively tried to avoid one another wherever possible. Both of us still very angry at the other. She was angry that I was becoming increasingly involved in a radical group of people who wanted her kind exterminated. And I was angry that she liked another boy better than me.

 

It was truly pathetic. I don’t attempt to deny this.

 

Once out of Hogwarts though things changed for the both of us.

 

I joined the Death Eaters officially and for a while I thought things were going well. I was doing horrible things, things that still haunt me to this day, but I was convinced that it was a price that had to be paid for the kind of world the Death Eaters had convinced me we needed.

 

For a while things were better than they had been for me than they had ever been.

 

That… did not last.

 

Soon I began to notice that the life that was advertised to us as Death Eaters was nothing like the reality. Purebloods were being killed for disobedience, the Dark Lord was dictating who was to marry within Pureblood families and became very micromanaging in every aspect of his followers lives. Everyone became paranoid, scared to think the wrong thing or be thought of to be behaving in the wrong way.

 

When Draco was born the Dark Lord didn’t congradulate Lucius and Narcissa for their Pureblood son, instead he asked for Lucius to pledge his service to him when Draco came of age. It was only because Lucius was able to argue that Draco’s services wouldn’t be needed by then that he was able to avoid the Unbreakable Vow for his son’s service. As Draco was named my Godson I suppose I was more invested in his life than of the other children being born around him, so it affected me a lot more.

 

What rocked me more than anything though was hearing that prophecy.

 

I overheard the prophecy Sybill Trelawney made about Harry and the Dark Lord. I immediately told the Dark Lord what I had heard, not realising that he would make the connection between the words and my old friend.

 

It shocked me when he decided that the prophecy was referring to Lily and James, and I was horrified to think that Lily was going to be hurt, or killed. I tried to rationalise my discomfort with the idea by telling myself that Lily was different from the muggleborns I had tormented, tortured, killed… I said she was special, somehow more than those lesser people we targeted. But it dawned on me that every person who was killed was someone’s Lily. They were people’s friends, partners, parents, relatives, and everything in between. To other people they were just as important as my former best friend was to me.

 

I was sickened by myself. Finally realising what I had done and who I had become.

 

I was the worst kind of monster.

 

But I was determined that I didn’t have to be forever.

 

I approached Albus with what I knew and volunteered to act as a spy for the order. Albus was at first skeptical, but in those days the Order was so desperate that he accepted my offer. Over time he came to trust me more and more. Eventually I was Dumbledore’s closest confidant. He thought that my guilt for what happened to your family proved that I wasn’t as bad as I once was. I was never quite so forgiving.

 

Upon Lily and James’ death I was extremely depressed. Albus knew the danger wasn’t truly over, that the Dark Lord would return some day. So we enjoyed the peace time without allowing ourselves to let our guards down too much. I continued to act the way I had always done, constantly aware of the student with Death Eater connections who would still be reporting on my behaviour. It was uncomfortable but a significant improvement over what my life had been.

 

A few years ago Albus confided in me about his mission.

 

He had just returned from the Gaunt house with a blackened and dying hand. He knew he couldn’t keep the information he had gathered close to his chest any longer, he was dying and he entrusted his legacy and his death to me.

 

Albus told me about Horcuxes, something I believe he passed on to you as well. The piece of information however that he missed out on telling you, Harry, was that there are not seven pieces of the Dark Lord’s soul in total, there are seven Horcruxes, with eight pieces total.

 

Albus’ death was planned between the two of us, choreographed down to the smallest detail, and I accepted his decisions easily, how could I say no to a dying man? The only one I resisted was perhaps the most important, he needed me to tell you Harry about the final Horcrux, the one the Dark Lord never meant to make.

 

That night, when the Dark Lord came to your house, he intended to use the deaths of your parents and yourself to ensure his own immortality, to destroy his challenger before he became old enough to pose a real threat.

 

But he didn’t count on Lily.

 

Lily gave her life to save you, but she also made sure that should Voldemort try and attack you, the attempt would kill him as well. With his horcruxes though, he didn’t die, but the magic that rebounded from him when he tried to kill you severed what little was left of his soul.

 

The problem with souls however, is that they have to be attached to something, and this piece of the Dark Lord’s soul had nothing else in the room but the little survivor to attach itself to.

 

No healers saw to the boy, nor did anyone know what happened. So the piece was able to fuse more and more with his body…

 

The final piece of Voldemort’s soul resides inside Harry Potter.

 

As long as he lives, Voldemort cannot be defeated.”

 

Thought he duration of Severus’ speech he had downed his glass of Firewhisky, and a whole second and third glass.

 

Harry was openly crying, completely stunned by everything he had heard.

 

He was willing to die, and had been only moments earlier, but the knowledge that he had a piece of Voldemort inside him was violating and horrific. The fact that even the people he had trusted the most were plotting his death and raising him for death was devastating. But, it did explain everything.

 

Draco was furious, “You’re not going” he said.

 

“Draco I have to” Harry sighed, unable to fight him,

 

“no, you don’t. I’m absolutely refusing to let you act all stupid and Gryffindorish about this. Self sacrifice might be noble and all that but it should only ever be a last resort. We’ve all taken Dumbledore’s word that you need to merrily go off and toff yourself and I won’t have it. There must be another way to get that Horcrux out of you.”

 

“Baby, I know this is hard to accept, but Dumbledore always said there are worse things to fear than death, right now, the thought of not being able to ever defeat Voldemort is far worse than me dying.”

 

“Okay, but we now know we can’t trust anything he said anymore can we?”

 

“Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean he can’t be trusted” Harry shouted, almost unable to believe that he was yelling at his beloved boyfriend to defend his own imminent death. How had things gone so completely insane in the last few days?

 

“Harry, Dumbledore wasn’t infallible. He had certain ideas that were just plain wrong. Look at how he treated people, you know there are things you disagree with, even if you just consider Sirius, he made mistakes. In this case, he decided that since the only way to destroy a Horcrux is to destroy its container beyond repair then you will just have to

die for it to be gone. But that’s just stupid!…” Draco had been shouting but his voice trailed off at the end, an idea coming to him.

 

He turned to Snape, “what if we can move the Hocrux to a different container? We know the container has to be destroyed to kill the soul fragment, but what is to say it has to stay in the same container forever? There must be some way to do it…”

 

“I don’t know” Snape admitted, “it might be possible… But it definitely isn’t my area of expertise.”

 

“Who would know anything about this kind of thing?” Draco asked, unsure how his Godfather was expecting to contact a Horcrux expert in the middle of a battle.

 

But apparently Severus had an idea.

 

“Harry,” he snapped, turning his attention to Lily’s son, “you were left something by Albus when he died were you not?”

 

Harry nodded mutely.

 

“Do you still have it?”

 

Reaching into his pocket Harry withdrew the snitch, “it doesn’t open though” he warned.

 

“It does if you know the right words” Snape countered, holding up the golden ball.

 

“I am about to die” He whispered to the snitch, holding his hand flat as the ball opened in his palm.


	48. Chapter 48

“Oh great” Harry said, “he’s leading me to get myself killed and what he gives me to help me along the way is a rock…” 

“I think you’ll find” said Severus, rolling his eyes, “that this is a bit more than a rock. You must remember that Albus believed wholeheartedly that you needed to die tonight. That there is no other way to vanquish the Dark Lord. He would have wanted to give  
you a reminder of those you might be seeing again.” 

Clutching the stone in his hand, Severus concentrated for a moment. 

Harry watched, for a moment in the awkward silence before hearing the soft voice from behind him of a woman he thought he would never hear.    

“Hello Harry” Said Lily Potter, beaming with excitement at the shocked face of her son as he turned to see her. 

Her husband was far less restrained, surging forward and pulling their baby into a tight, bone crushing hug “Harry! Oh look at you! You’ve gotten so big! We’re so proud of you- aren’t we Lils, tell him! We’ve been watching you grow up and you’ve just blown us away at every opportunity!” 

Harry clutched his father in return, completely overwhelmed with the situation. 

James was taller than Harry was, though not quite as tall as Draco or Severus. He was broader in the shoulder than Harry was, but hopefully Harry would be able to match him, if he got a few more years to catch up. He had the same signature jet black hair that stood up at odd angles and the same golden brown tan to his skin. 

Lily was shorter than her son, barely making it to Draco’s shoulder. Her auburn hair fell midway down her back in tousled waves. She had far fewer freckles than any of the Weasleys, but those she did have decorated her nose and cheekbones in a way that only emphasised how painfully young she was when she died. She was beautiful, the bright green eyes she had given to her son were shining brightly as she smiled, delighted by the father and son’s reunion. 

As soon as James released her boy she stepped forward and took her turn. Cuddling her baby close to her and ruffling his hair the way she had always teasingly done to James. 

Harry hugged her just as tightly as he had his dad, her rich floral smell comforting something deep inside him, breaking the little shred of control he had left over his emotions. He sobbed into her shoulder, at a loss for words. 

He didn’t think he could take anymore until he heard, “good to see you’re doing well pup.” 

“Sirius!” 

And there too stood his Godfather, with all the horrors of Azkaban washed away from his handsome face. He smiled broadly and joined in the reunion, thrilled to see his wonderful Godson again. 

Seeing his Godfather again brought a fresh wave of emotion over Harry, “Sirius I’m so sorry!” Harry said, rushing to his side, the guilt he’d felt for the last two years washing over him all at once.

“Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for mate?” Sirius asked, he had assumed that showing up from beyond the veil would be overwhelming for Harry, but truthfully he had expected it to be a happy kind of overwhelming.

“You… all of you… you died and it was all my fault. I didn’t want any of this to happen and I’m so so sorry I wasn’t able to save you… any of you.” Harry’s head bowed as he remembered the people outside in the castle, still tending to the dead and wounded while they had the time. So many people had lost their lives for him, and he hadn’t been able to do anything for any of them- he still couldn’t. 

“Harry” Sirius said, patting him on the shoulder, “none of us blame you for what happened to us, you know that right? We love you kiddo and there was nothing more important to any of us than making sure you were safe.”

“Besides,” James said, joining the reunion “when your mum and I went, you were barely 18 months old. I don’t know what you thought you might have been able to do there. Even at 15 years old when Sirius carked it, you were a child, the adults around you are supposed to protect you. That’s our job. Its been so awful for us to see how many of the adults around you have failed to do that.”

“But I’m not worth it!” Harry said, speaking more honestly than he intended “you guys could have had long and full lives without me there to cut them short and cause all these problems.”

“Harry James!” Lily snapped, “don’t you dare let me hear you saying things like that again! We wouldn’t have traded our time with you for anything. Of course its awful that we didn’t get to stay with you, that you had to be raised by my horrible sister. Of course I wish I could have been there with you to watch you grow up into the strong, brave and sweet man you’ve become- we all wish we could have been more a part of it. But if the cost of us being around was you getting hurt, or worse, that’s not a trade any of us were willing to make.”

“Your my parents, my family, you might feel that way, but everyone else out there doesn’t.”

“They have people they do love that way though. They have families and friends of their own that they’re trying to defend. As much as Dumbledore and Voldemort wanted to make this war all about you, it really isn’t. Its about all the families, everyone who is being persecuted and everyone who wants to protect their loved ones. You’ve just become a symbol of it. So you’re right, none of them love you as much as we do- well, maybe apart from your Malfoy friend over here, but that’s not who they’re doing this for.” James explained.

Now that he’d been pointed out, Draco could no longer hide in the shadows, letting Harry have his time with his family uninterrupted. Summoning all his courage, fully aware that their rejection would mean the end of his relationship with Harry, Draco stepped forward. 

“Mrs. Potter, Mr. Potter, it’s an honour to meet you both” He held out his hand, ready to introduce himself as he was taught by his parents: stiffly and politely. 

Lily wasn’t having any of it. 

“Draco!” She said, turning to him with a bright smile, “I’m so sorry dear I didn’t mean to ignore you, but you understand- its been sixteen years since we’ve seen our Harry in person, its all a bit exciting. Its such a pleasure to meet you though dear!” She saw his hand outstretched and with a smirk, used it to pull him into a tight hug. 

“Hi Draco, great to meet you!” James laughed, joining in to create a group hug that had Draco feeling horribly uncomfortable, though secretly very relieved. 

“You guys don’t mind?” Harry asked nervously, “about Draco and I?” 

“Mind?” James asked with a laugh “why would we mind? He obviously makes you happy, we’ve seen enough to know that- no need to worry there though Malfoy, we don’t see too much, if you know what I mean, but Harry, as long as you’re happy that’s all we’ve ever wanted for you, if Draco helps with that then he’s great in our books. Right guys?” 

Sirius and Lily nodded, “both you poor boys need all the family you can get, and if you find it in each other, then I think that’s wonderful!” 

Draco and Harry smiled at each other, both blushing furiously but feeling thrilled with the approval from Harry’s family. 

“As touching as this is” Severus interrupted, “we have work to do.” 

Lily turned to her former best friend slowly, her cheerful smile turning decisively cheeky, “oh Severus, some things never change. Still being a Grumpy Gus are you?” 

Severus rolled his eyes, though Draco would have sworn he saw his lips quirk up in a small, secret smile. 

“Someone has to bare the burden.” He said easily, as if this was an exchange the pair had had many times before. 

“Oh come here you ridiculous man” Lily sighed, giving Severus a hug as well, “its good to see you again.” She said quietly. 

“and you as well.” Severus responded, “Lily, I am so sorry for everything.” 

“I know you are.” 

Lily stepped back, her joyful demeanour melting into something more serious as she allowed her Unspeakable side to come out. 

"Right, so Harry darling, we need to work out how to get this piece of Voldemort out of you. Does anyone have any ideas?" 

"The container of a Horcrux needs to be destroyed beyond repair in order to destroy the Horcrux itself" Harry parroted, feeling slightly less forlorn about the whole thing now that he saw the people he would be going back to. Dying would be sad, he would miss Draco, but in a way, wouldn't he be going home? 

"Yes, well normally that is true Harry dear, but I think for obvious reasons we'd quite like to avoid going down that path. Its been fantastic to see you, but we don't need you back with us for a long time yet." 

"I was wondering if there was a way we can use that though, if all that is required is for the container, in this case, Harry, to be destroyed, can't we just change the container? Preferably to something we are more okay with destroying beyond repair?" 

"Excellent Draco!" Lily encouraged, "how does one extract a soul though?" 

 "I don't know... I mean, its not something that is often done though is it, removing a soul." 

"No it isn't. When is it done though?" Lily asked. 

"As a punishment, with dementors" Draco said, confused. 

"Exactly, and as you boys so unfortunately discovered earlier today, there are dementors right outside!" 

James leaned over to whisper to Harry, "she wanted to be a potions professor, your mum. During the war though she thought working with the unspeakables would be a better option, she felt she could do more good that way. She would have been a great teacher though wouldn't she?" 

Harry nodded, thinking for a moment about how differently things could have gone, with his mum teaching him potions.

And she would have, she was the perfect mix of instructional and helpful, while still encouraging Draco to find answers, and still wanting contributions from all of them to try and get the best possible plan from all of their contributions. 

"So does anyone know what dementors do with the souls they kiss out?" She asked. 

“They don’t do anything with it do they?” Harry asked, “I thought they just sort of... eat it?” 

“Eat it?” Draco asked, looking at Harry like he’d grown a second head. “Dementors don’t eat.”  

“Well how am I supposed to know that?” 

“Boys!” Lily interrupted, “In a way you’re both right, Dementors don’t eat, that’s true, but they do absorb essence, which is very loosely the same thing. The good thing is this takes quite a while, and there is a chance that it gives us a window. I have an idea, and I won’t lie, its a bit crazy... but I promise you Harry I would never suggest anything that I thought would put you in genuine danger.” 

“I know that” Harry said, truthfully. His mother was one of the only adult figures in his life he could be completely certain had no ulterior motive when talking to him. She had literally died to protect him, whatever he plan was, he knew she wouldn’t suggest it if it was anything like Dumbledore’s. 

“The problem is darling that it is going to be rather unpleasant.” She grimaced, “very unpleasant.” 

“I’m hardly unfamiliar with unpleasant things.” Harry said, almost charmed by her hesitance, after everything he’d been though there wasn’t much he would say no to if it meant ending all this. 

Lily frowned, pulling Harry in for another hug and gently placing a kiss against his temple, “I know you aren’t. And we’re so sorry for how much you’ve had to go through. But we can do this, you’re going to be okay.” 

“Alright go on then Lils, what’s the plan?” James asked. 

“Right! So... what we need... to do is—“ Lily started, stumbling and falling to the ground as she lost her balance. 

“Mum!” Harry said, running to her side, “What happened?” 

Lily shook her head smiling sadly at Harry, “I’m sorry Harry, I’m alright, really. The dead aren’t meant to be in the land of the living for too long, it upsets the balance of nature. We don’t have much time left here and we’re going fade away again. I wish we had more time with you my love but I’m afraid the situation is getting rather urgent.” 

“Yes, for that and the fact that we really don’t have long before Voldemort’s timer is up and he comes back to the castle.” 

“Yeah, that’s best to be avoided if we can” Sirius suggested. 

“Right,” Said Lily, getting back up and taking a seat beside her husband, “what we’re going to do is send Harry out to the dementors. Harry- you, my brave, wonderful boy, are going to have to go out there and not defend yourself. Let them take you. 

The soul theory I studied before I died suggested that souls have weight, the more light inside a person, the lighter their soul. Voldemort’s soul fragment, though not an entire soul on its own, will likely read as slightly heavier than your own. The dementor will go for it first, as it would provide more for it to feed on.” 

“Hang on,” Draco interrupted, “dementors take happy memories though, that’s why Azkaban inmates are so tortured, they are left with only their worst memories.” 

“That is true, but happiness has nothing to do with light and dark essences. Think for example of a thief, or a particularly vindictive criminal. They can experience the same endorphin rush that we experience as happiness doing something bad, or unpleasant as we would when we see out loved ones or do something we enjoy. When someone like Bellatrix Lestrange casts a patronus charm, its more likely that she’ll call on memories of the things that make her happy- things that normal people would find horrifying. So while Azkaban would have left her with her worst memories, those might just be the memories she found the least pleasant, like the thought of her sister’s marriage to the muggleborn Ted Tonks. Or a time she was unknowingly kind to a muggle man. Happiness and sadness are completely subjective experiences. Light and dark magic however, are not. 

Harry, you have been nowhere near as involved in Dark Magic as Voldemort was, even as a 10th of a piece of Voldemort’s soul was. So the dementors will go for that soul, the ‘heavier’ soul, before yours. 

If we can allow the dementor to get close enough to take Voldemort’s soul fragment, then we can cast the patronus charm at the  
ast moment to keep Harry’s soul safe. 

With the five of us keeping watch we will definitely be able to overpower the dementor and then Harry will have his body completely to himself, and Voldemort will be mortal for the first time in over fifty years.” 

“Okay, I understand that, but its all theory! I know you wouldn’t risk Harry’s life, or Merlin forbid, his soul unnecessarily, but we don’t actually know this will work!” Draco protested. 

“Actually, we do.” Sirius argued, “Harry, you once told me what you heard when the dementors got too close to you. What was it?” 

“It was mum, screaming and begging Voldemort to spare me...” Harry said, looking over to the woman in question. She and James smiled at him again, both still beyond excited to see their son again. 

“But Harry” James said, seeing where Sirius and Lily were coming from, “It doesn’t make sense for you to remember that. You were far too young. To be able to hear and recall the specific words Lily said in any detail is completely impossible.” 

“It isn’t your memory sweetie” Lily explained, “the memory you’re recalling is Voldemort’s, his worst memory is of the night he lost his power, and was defeated. That’s why hear it, because that is the soul that the dementor is targeting when it comes to you.” 

Draco nods, “okay, but we have to be close, I’m not leaving Harry’s soul to chance.” 

“Nor would we” James agreed. 

“Our magical ability will be reduced here,” Lily said, “but between the three of us we can still provide enough backup to you and Sev.” 

“Okay,” Harry said, getting to his feet, “lets go do this.”


End file.
